"Would he not have read the account of the inquest?" I inquired.
"He could not read it himself; he was blind at the time, recollect; and I know no one who would have inflicted upon him the pain of making him acquainted with the sorrowful details. I am convinced that these published particulars have not come to his knowledge."
"Point out weak and suspicious points, Bob."
"She was not his daughter," said Bob.
"Exactly. And therefore there was no reason why he should have had any strong affection for her."
"I suppose," said Bob, "that we had best take the worst view of anything that suggests itself."
"I don't intend to soften anything down," I replied. "At present we are doing no one an injustice, and I am inclined to accept the most terrible suggestion without shrinking. We need not give it a name, Bob. If it is in your mind as it is in mine, let it rest there till the time arrives to proclaim it aloud."
Bob nodded and said, "There was a large fortune. £60,000 is a tempting bait."
"Observe," I remarked, "that at the inquest no allusion is made to the fact that Mr. Nisbet would so largely benefit by the death of his stepdaughter."
"It is singular, Ned. Could it have been willfully suppressed?"