“He knew that I was rather nervous where Mr. Strangeways was concerned. I am sorry to say he found that out almost at once. He even told me several times that I must not think of him—that I need hear nothing about him.” She turned to the duke, her air of appeal plainly representing a feeling that he would understand her confession. “I scarcely like to say it, but wrong as it was I couldn't help feeling that it was like having a—a lunatic in the house. I was afraid he might be more—ill—than Temple realized, and that he might some time become violent. I never admitted so much of course, but I was.”
“You see, she was not told,” Palliser summed it up succinctly.
“Evidently,” the duke admitted. “I see your point.” But he seemed to disengage himself from all sense of admitting implications with entire calmness, as he turned again to Mr. Palford and his papers.
“You were saying that the exact evidence was—?”
Mr. Palford referred to a sheet of notes.
“That—whether before or shortly after his arrival here is not at all certain—Mr. Temple Temple Barholm began strongly to suspect the identity of the person then known as Strangeways—”
Palliser again emitted the short and dry laugh, and both the duke and Mr. Palford looked at him inquiringly.
“He had `got on to' it before he brought him,” he answered their glances. “Be sure of that.”
“Then why did he bring him?” the duke suggested lightly.
“Oh, well,” taking his cue from the duke, and assuming casual lightness also, “he was obliged to come himself, and was jolly well convinced that he had better keep his hand on the man, also his eye. It was a good-enough idea. He couldn't leave a thing like that wandering about the States. He could play benefactor safely in a house of the size of this until he was ready for action.”