"Dead!—nonsense," cried Teddy hastily. "Why should he be dead? He wouldn't commit suicide, it is unlikely he has met with an accident, and no one would harm him, for he hadn't an enemy in the world."
"No, that's true. Adrian has no enemy, but there is a man who does not like me, so out of revenge he might harm Adrian."
"A man who does not like you?" repeated Teddy in surprise.
"Yes; Dr. Roversmire," she answered, coming up close to him, and laying her gloved hand on his arm. "He wanted to marry me, and I refused him because I loved Adrian. Suppose he wanted to remove Adrian from his path."
"The supposition is too idle. But suppose he did, what then? Do you think he would murder him?"
"No," she said, in a low voice, "but Dr. Roversmire is a theosophist, a believer in occult science. He comes from India, where they say these people have strange, unholy powers. What if he had lured Adrian to his house at Hampstead, and disintegrated his body."
Teddy Rudall smiled at this, for he was a matter-of-fact young man, very sceptical of the powers asserted to be exercised by the theosophists.
"That's a lot of nonsense, you know," he said lightly. "That theosophy is all bosh. I've been to lots of their meetings, and it's the same kind of rubbish as table-turning and mesmerism. You surely don't believe in it?"
"I did not, but since Adrian has vanished so strangely I confess I feel a little afraid."
"Of Dr. Roversmire?"