She stopped the cab and he hurried after it.
"Nona!"
"Marko!"
She said, "I'm hurrying to Euston to catch a train. Tony's mother is with me."
He could not see her well in the dim light, but he thought she looked terribly pale and fatigued. And her manner odd. He said, "I'm just going back. But you, Nona? I thought you were in France?"
"I was—this morning. I only came over to-day."
How funny her voice was. "Nona, you look ill. You sound ill. What's up? Is anything wrong?"
She said, "Oh, Marko, Tony's killed."
"Nona!"
... That came careering headlong, as though malignity, bitter and wanton, had loosed a savage bolt.