CHAPTER IV
Destruction
A deep-toned clock in the house struck twelve.
Rain began to fall. A few moments later the financier hurried across the lawns with his collar turned up. The danseuse followed him. She seemed a disappointed and indignant woman.
"It's almost an insult," she complained overtaking him.
"Noth a penny more," said the financier firmly.
They both turned quickly. Her hand gripped his arm convulsively. Wild shouting arose in the darkness, and the sound of someone forcing a headlong way through hedge and bush.
The Reverend Percival Delamere was rushing towards the house as if the entire penalties of sin were at his heels.
"A corpse! A corpse by the river! Miss Manderson has been murdered!"
The danseuse uttered a terrified cry. The financier shook.