“To be sure. The man told me of it himself. Indeed, he came to me the very day I was leaving Rome, and made me an offer—a most obliging offer.”
“To share his fallen fortunes?”
“Sir Charles Collingham! How can you? That creature!” The contempt in her tone was immeasurable.
“I had heard—well, some one said that—”
“Speak out, General; I shall not be offended. I know what you mean. It is perfectly true that the man once presumed to pester me with his attentions. But I would as soon have looked at a courier or a cook. And now—”
There was a pause. The General felt on delicate ground. He could ask no questions—anything more must come from the Countess herself.
“But let me tell you what his offer was. I don’t know why I listened to it. I ought to have at once informed the police. I wish I had.”
“It might have saved him from his fate.”
“Every villain gets his deserts in the long run,” she said, with bitter sententiousness. “And this Mr. Quadling is—But wait, you shall know him better. He came to me to propose—what do you think?—that he—his bank, I mean—should secretly repay me the amount of my deposit, all the money I had in it. To join me in his fraud, in fact—”
“The scoundrel! Upon my word, he has been well served. And that was the last you saw of him?”