"Do you know how she died?" asked Francesca, moved to righteous anger, and willing to pain him if she could.
He looked up suddenly, and bent his shaggy brows.
"No," he answered. "That man Griggs wrote me that she had died suddenly. That was all I heard."
"She did not die a natural death."
"Indeed?"
"She poisoned herself. She could not bear the life. It was very dreadful." Francesca's voice sank to a low tone.
Lord Redin was silent for a few moments, and his bony face had a grim look. Perhaps something in the dead woman's last act appealed to him, as nothing in her life had done.
"Tell me, please. I should like to know. After all, she was my daughter."
"Yes," said Francesca, gravely. "She was your daughter. She was very unhappy with Paul Griggs, and she found out very soon that she had made a dreadful mistake. She loved her husband, after all."
"Like a woman!" interjected Lord Redin, half unconsciously.