It gave Mr. Manley to understand that she had expected some other kind of painful communication—doubtless about the divorce Lord Loudwater had threatened. But he had composed a series of phrases leading up by a nice gradation to the final announcement, and he went on: "Yes. There is very little likelihood of his recovering from it."
Olivia looked at him queerly, hesitating. Then she said: "Do you mean that he's going to be a cripple for life?"
"I mean that he will not live to be a cripple," said Mr. Manley, pleased to insert a further phrase into his series.
"Is it as bad as that?" she said, in a tone which again gave Mr. Manley the impression that she was thinking of something else and had not realized the seriousness of his words.
"I'm sorry to say that it's worse than that. Lord Loudwater is dead," he said, in his deepest, most sympathetic voice.
"Dead?" she said, in a shocked tone which sounded to him rather forced.
"Murdered," he said.
"Murdered?" cried Olivia, and Mr. Manley had the feeling that there was less surprise than relief in her tone.
"I have sent for Dr. Thornhill and the police from Low Wycombe," he said.
"They ought to have been here before this. And I am going to telegraph to
Lord Loudwater's solicitors. You would like to have their help as soon as
possible, I suppose. There seems nothing else to be done at the moment."
"Then you don't know who did it?" said Olivia.