CHAPTER XXX.
[REGINALD'S MAN OF BUSINESS.]
As it was in Draper's Mews so was it in other parts of the metropolis. The murder was talked of everywhere, and in some mysterious way the disappearance of Abel Death was associated with it. The wildest speculations were indulged in. He had gone to Australia, he had gone to America, he had never left England at all, he had taken with him an enormous sum of money which he had found in the house in Catchpole Square, he had so disguised himself that his own wife and children would not have known him, he had been seen in various parts of London. He was generally condemned, and had no defenders. Had his fate, if caught and in the clutches of the law, depended upon the public vote, his doom would have been sealed.
So was it with Mrs. Pond and Mrs. Applebee, who could talk upon no other subject.
"Applebee says that when Inspector Robson saw the body he turned as white as a ghost."
"Why should he?" asked Mrs. Pond. "It's not the first body he's seen by many."
"Why, don't you know, my dear," said Mrs. Applebee, "that his daughter's married to Mr. Boyd's son?"
"No, I never heard of it."
Mrs. Applebee bristled with importance. "They were married only a few weeks ago, and they do say it was a runaway match. Off they went one morning, arm in arm, to the registrar's office, and she comes home half an hour afterwards, and says, 'Mother, I'm married to Mr. Reginald Boyd.' 'Married, Florence!' cries Mrs. Robson, and bursts into tears.
"Florence!" said Mrs. Pond, in dismay, thinking of the handkerchief.