'No, never,' said Martin Gurwood, with increased perturbation, duly marked by Pauline. 'Why do you ask?'
'I merely wanted to know whether it was an unhealthy place, as this poor man seems to have caught his death there.'
'Mr. Calverley died from heart-disease, brought on by mental worry and excitement.'
'Ah,' said Pauline; 'poor man!' And she thought to herself, 'that mental worry and excitement were caused by his knowledge that he had to encounter me, and to tell me the true story--for he was too dull to devise any fiction which I should not have been able to detect--of his dealings with this Claxton.'
After a pause she said: 'These worries sprung from his intense interest in his business, I suppose, Monsieur Gurwood?'
'I--I should imagine so,' said Martin, flushing again. 'Mr. Calverley was devoted to business.'
'Yes,' said Pauline, looking straight at him. 'I often wondered he did not give himself more relaxation; did not confide the conduct of his affairs more to his subordinates, or at least to his partner.'
The shot told. All the colour left Martin Gurwood's face, and he looked horridly embarrassed as he said, 'Partner, Madame Du Tertre? Mr. Calverley had no partner.'
'Indeed,' said Pauline calmly, but keeping her eyes fixed on his face; 'I thought I understood that there was a gentleman whose name was not in the firm, but who was what you call a sleeping partner, Mr.--Mr. Claxton.'
'There is no such name in the house,' said Martin Gurwood, striving to master his emotion. 'From whom did you hear this, madame--not from my mother?'