"Very well," she said, "Good-bye!"
I shuddered to myself as I followed the wagon down the narrow street towards the police station. A strange reserve had crept into her manner during the latter portion of our walk. There was something in her mind which she shrank from putting into words. Did she believe that I was responsible for this grim tragedy which had so suddenly thrown its shadow over my humdrum little life?
CHAPTER V
THE GRACIOUSNESS OF THE DUKE
At a quarter-past three that afternoon I was ushered into the presence of the Duke of Rowchester. I had never seen him before, and his personality at once interested me. He was a small man, grey-haired, keen-eyed, clean shaven. He received me in a somewhat bare apartment, which he alluded to as his workroom, and I found him seated before a desk strewn with papers. He rose immediately at my entrance, and I could feel that he was taking more than usual note of my appearance.
"You are Mr. Ducaine," he said, holding out his hand. "I am very glad to see you."
He motioned me to a chair facing the window, a great uncurtained affair, through which the north light came flooding in, whilst he himself sat in the shadows.
"I trust," he said, "that you have quite recovered from your last night's indisposition. My daughter has been telling me about it."
"Quite, thank you," I answered. "Lady Angela and Colonel Ray were very kind to me."
He nodded, and then glanced at the papers on his desk.