His appearance startled her—his eyes were so wild, his whole manner so strained and restless, and she gave a little dismayed exclamation as she saw him.
“Oh, what's the matter?” she asked. “Aren't you well? You look—”
She paused for she did not know exactly how it was he did look; and he said in his harshest, most abrupt manner,
“Do you remember Charley Wright?”
“Why do you ask?” she said, puzzled. “Is anything wrong?”
“Do you remember John Clive?” he asked, disregarding this. “Have you heard two men have been arrested for his murder?”
“Mrs. Barker told me so,” she answered gravely. He came a little nearer, almost threateningly nearer.
“What do you think of that?” he asked.
She lifted one hand and put it gently on his arm. The touch of it thrilled him through and through, and he felt a little dazed as he watched it resting on his coat sleeve. She had become very pale also and her voice was low and strained as she said,
“Have you had suspicions too?”