"Thank you, Mr. Brett. Dancing afterwards?"
"I do not know."
"Pardon me. Supper furnished by Delmonico, I suppose?"
"Well I really have not asked. I daresay."
"Thank you, Mr. Brett. Delmonico." Mr. Wood's pencil noted the fact. Brett began to think that he had had enough of the interview, and deliberately lighting a cigarette looked at the reporter. "Anything else you would like to know, Mr. Wood?"
"Well, since you have been so very obliging, Mr. Brett, I would like to ask you a question."
"All right," said Brett, resignedly. "Go ahead."
"Mrs. Darche is a widow, I understand."
"Yes."
"Mr. Darche was the unfortunate victim of an accident several months ago, I believe?"