“But, hang it all! why should he? The girl’s uncommonly good-looking.”
“Good looks aren’t everything,” said Lord Manton; “when you come to my time of life, you’ll understand that. Just put yourself in the doctor’s place for a minute. You’ve had some little experience of Miss Blow. So have I. But the poor doctor knew her a great deal better than we do. Just think of what his feelings must have been when he heard that she was coming over here to pay his debts. He’d be bound to marry her straight off after that. And then—just think of sitting down to breakfast every morning opposite a young woman of her character. I admit her good looks, but she’s masterful. She’d bully a prize-fighter. The poor doctor wouldn’t have had the ghost of a chance, especially as married life would begin by her paying his debts. That would give her the whip hand of him at once; and she’s just the sort of girl who would make the most of her opportunities.”
“I don’t know—it’s possible, of course.”
“It’s certain, man. Be reasonable. Here’s a fact, a perfectly undeniable fact. The doctor’s gone. Unless you’re going to adopt Miss Blow’s hypothesis——”
“Oh, he’s not murdered, of course. I know that.”
“Very well, then, my explanation of his disappearance is the only one that’s left. And it’s quite a probable one in itself. Nine men out of ten in the doctor’s position would do exactly what he’s done.”
“Then what the devil am I to do?”
“You’re in a deuced awkward position. I don’t know what the end of it will be. The authorities certainly won’t stand your taking the police away from their ordinary duties, and setting them to scour the country for the body of a man who isn’t dead. There’d be questions asked in Parliament about it, and all sorts of fuss. Besides, you’d look such an ass.”
“I know I should.”
“All the same, you’re in for it now. Unless you choose to go and tell Miss Blow the truth. She might believe you, though I very much doubt it.”