"What happened?" asked Towton bluntly. "What I am about to tell you. Dimsdale was then a police-commissioner. He loved Mrs. Menteith, who returned his love, and hated the husband."
"I don't believe that for one moment. Dimsdale was a good fellow, who would never make love to another man's wife."
"Many good fellows do that," said Diabella sarcastically; "and Dimsdale did love Mrs. Menteith: so deeply that he did not save the husband's life when he could have done so."
"That's an absolute lie," insisted Towton angrily. "How dare you malign a dead man who cannot defend himself!"
"Martin Dimsdale's friend, George Venery, who is a merchant at Singapore, can prove the truth of what I say."
"Rubbish! How do you know?"
"I read all I am telling you in the astral light," said Diabella. "If it displeases you I need tell no more."
"It does not so much displease me as make me wonder at your imagination."
Diabella still preserved her immobility. "Write to George Venery and you will find that I have spoken the truth."
"It seems incredible," muttered Towton doubtfully. "Of course, I know that there is great truth in occult matters. But what you say is too precise to be anything but what you must have learned--perhaps from this man."