"Ah--hum--yes," gurgled Durban. "Yes, missy, Mrs. Snow knew master before you were born--at Convent Grange."
"I heard her say that Colonel Hall's throat had also been cut."
Durban shuddered, and leaned against the door. "Yes," he whispered faintly, "that was so, missy."
"Mr. Alpenny's throat has been cut in the same way."
Durban half smiled, but his expression was wry and twisted. "There is only one way to cut a throat, missy."
"Ugh!" Beatrice turned pale, and threw up her hand. "Don't!"
"It is a nasty subject, missy. I--I'm sorry for the master. And yet," he added, half to himself; "if ever a man deserved what he got, master was that man."
"What do you mean?" asked Beatrice, taking a step towards him.
"Master had many enemies," went on Durban, again casting his eyes on the ground; "a money-lender always has."
"Then you know----"