"You know about such things, do you?"
"I'm a collector myself in a mild way," I answered.
"They belong to my husband," she said, abruptly; and once more closed her eyes. "Tell me, doctor," she continued after a while, "what is happening in London?"
"The usual things, Mrs. MacDerry.... In that respect I don't think there is much change since you were there. The world dances and goes to theatres as ever...."
"But is there no big event," she persisted, "in the season this year? ... No big ball ... or ... or marriage?"
"Why, yes," I answered, "there's a big marriage.... It's just taken place...." And though I saw those two fragile hands clenched tight, no suspicion dawned on me as I spoke. "Lord Fingarton's only son has just married the Duke of Sussex's youngest daughter...."
"And what do they say of Lord Fingarton's only son?" she demanded. "Is he a worthy successor of his father?"
"They say that he's a good lad," I answered. "I thought so myself when I spoke to him the other night...."
"You spoke to him?" she cried. "Tell me about him—everything you can...."
And still I did not suspect.... I told her of the boy; I sketched him for her to the best of my ability, and she listened eagerly. And then when I had finished, something—I know not what—made me add one sentence for which, till my dying day, I shall be thankful.