“But according to your story, your brother had nothing to blame himself for,” said Barrant. “You say that he was ignorant of this earlier marriage until recently?”
“Public sentiment will not look at it that way. People will say he sacrificed a dead woman and his daughter to his own selfish ends—threw them over when he had attained his ambition. That’s what came home to him, in my opinion.”
“I see.” Barrant was silent for a while, turning this over in all its bearings. “Yes. There may be something in that point of view. But did not your brother confide this story to you before yesterday?”
“When we were alone together during the last few days he frequently seemed on the point of telling me something. I could see that by his manner. But he never got beyond a certain portentousness, as it were. It’s my belief now that he wanted to tell me, but couldn’t quite bring himself to it. I am very sorry that he didn’t.”
“Do you know how long your brother has been aware of this earlier marriage?”
“Quite recently, I believe. He gave us to understand yesterday that it was a death-bed confession.”
“Are there any proofs of the earlier marriage?”
“I am afraid I cannot enlighten you on that point either.”
“This is very strange,” said Barrant. “The proofs are very important. This disclosure vitally affected your brother’s ambitions, and was therefore likely to influence his views regarding the disposition of his property.”
He shot a keen glance at his companion. Austin laid aside his glasses and bent earnestly across the table.