"Why 'dreadful'?" asked Mr. Brown.
"Only think of it," said Mrs. Willoughby. "An escaped suicide—I mean, a convict who escaped and killed himself."
"And you think that the disgrace of having committed suicide will cling to him in after life, so to say—in Sing-Sing?" inquired Mr. Brown.
"Do not make me out more stupid than I really am." Cousin Annie assumed a deprecatory expression. "Do you not think that a man like Darche—convicted of a crime—escaped—if he suddenly re—re— What is the word?"
"Imperfectly resurrected," suggested Vanbrugh.
"Oh yes! Anything! If he came back to life, and yet was supposed to be dead, and was trying to begin all over again and to make a fresh start, and that kind of thing—under another name—"
"In order to enjoy the satisfaction of seeing his widow marry some one else?" asked Vanbrugh, with less discretion than usual.
"I did not mean that," said Mrs. Willoughby quickly. "Poor Marion! Poor Marion! What time is it, Mr. Brown?"
"Three."
"Oh dear!" exclaimed cousin Annie.