Miss Taverner walked slowly across the room and put her hand reluctantly into his. He bent, and somewhat to her surprise lightly kissed it. Releasing it again he said: “I have one more thing to say to you before we forget this conversation. It is my wish that you will not mention, either to Mr. Taverner or to anyone else, this suspicion you have had of Perry’s having been poisoned.” She looked questioningly at him, half-frowning. “You can do no good by giving voice to such a suspicion; you may do harm.”
“Harm! Do you think—is it possible that I may have been right?” she asked in quick alarm.
“Extremely unlikely,” he replied. “But since this indisposition of his has overtaken him under my roof I prefer not to be suspected of making away with him.”
“I shall not speak of it,” she said in a troubled way. “I should not spread such a rumour without positive proof of its truth.”
He bowed, and moved away from her towards the door. Before he had reached it he looked back, and said casually: “By the by, Miss Taverner, can you lay your hand on the lease of your house? I believe I gave it into your charge.”
“It is in my desk at home,” she said. “Do you wish for it?”
“Blackader writes of some point to be argued. It will be necessary for me to glance at the lease. If a servant were sent to London, could your housekeeper, or some such person, find it, and give it to him to bring to me?”
“Certainly,” she said. “Hinkson, Perry’s new groom, can be sent for it.”
“Thank you, that will be best, no doubt,” he said.
A hasty step sounded at this moment outside the room, and a gay voice called: “In the library, is he? I will find him: do not give yourself the trouble of coming with me, my dear ma’am! I have not forgot my way about.”