Judas narrowed his eyes down to their dangerous expression, and shrugged his shoulders once more, but said nothing.
"And what has Melstane's death to do with me?" asked Marson, coldly.
"Monsieur, he loved your child."
"I am aware of that. A piece of infernal impertinence."
"Then you are glad of his death?"
"I am neither glad nor sorry, Monsieur Guinaud. I don't know why you have done me the honour to seek this interview. If you will state your reason, I will be pleased."
The Frenchman leaned back in his chair, placed the tips of his long fingers together, and smiled sweetly.
"Monsieur Mar-rson, my friend that loved your beautiful child is dead. I am full of regrets for him, but for myself I have the pleasure."
"And why?"
"Can you not guess the secret of my heart? I love your angel."