"So the journals said; with a bowie!"
"No, not with a bowie," corrected Lucian, "but with some long, sharp instrument."
"A dagger?" suggested Clyne.
"I should be even more precise," said Denzil slowly. "I should say a stiletto—an Italian stiletto."
"A stiletto!" gasped Mrs. Vrain, whose delicate pink colour had faded to a chalky white. "Oh!—oh! I—I—" and she fainted forthwith.
CHAPTER VII
THE ASSURANCE MONEY
Mrs. Vrain's fainting fit was of no great duration, and she shortly recovered her senses, but not her sprightliness. Her excuse was that the long discussion of her husband's murder, and the too precise details related to her by Link before Denzil's arrival, had so wrought on her nerves as to occasion her temporary indisposition.