With a glance at the door of the sitting-room, nervousness bringing the
sweat to his forehead, Gammon told what he knew, all except the burning
of the will, and the fact of Greenacre's mission to Ireland. The
listener was at first sight utterly bewildered, looked incredulous, and
only when certain details had been repeated and emphasized began to
grasp the reality of what she heard.

"Oh!" she exclaimed at length in profound agitation, "that explains so
many things! I never thought of this, but I've often wondered. I
understand now."

She paused, struggling to control herself. Then, not without dignity,
in the tone and with the face that are natural at such moments only to
a woman here and there; the nobler of her sex, she added:

"I can't go to the hospital. Someone else must tell me about him. I
can't go."

"I shall have time to call on my way," said Gammon, "and I could send
you a wire."

"Will you? I can't go."

She sobbed, but quietly, hiding her face in her hands. Gammon, more
distressed by her emotion than he had ever felt at the sight of a woman
weeping, did his clumsy best to solace her. He would call at the
hospital straight away and telegraph the news as soon as possible. And
anything else he could learn about Lord Polperro should be made known
to her without delay. He wrote on a piece of paper the address in
Sloane Street, and that of the house in Stanhope Gardens. On the point
of departure something occurred to him that it was wise to say.

"I shouldn't do anything just yet." He looked at her impressively. "In
your position I should just wait a little. I'm sure it would be better,
and I may be able to give you a reason before long."

She nodded.

"I shall do nothing--nothing."

"That's best, I assure you. You're not angry with me? You'll shake
hands?"

She gave him her hand; withdrew it quickly; turned to hide her face
again. And Gammon hastened Citywards.

A telegram came from him in little more than an hour. It reported that
the patient was still unconscious and dangerously ill.

When, later in the afternoon, Gammon went to the hospital to make
another inquiry he learnt that Lord Polperro was dead.

Turning away, debating whether to send the widow a. telegram or to
break the news by word of mouth, he saw a cab drive up, out of which
jumped Mr. Greenacre. Their eyes met, but they exchanged no sign of
recognition. Scarcely, however, had Gammon walked a dozen yards when a
quick step sounde