"Mr. Vail seems very contented," she said. "Of course, I am accustomed to looking after him."
She stepped quietly through an open door, the keys jangling softly at her belt.
I went South with my husband for a fortnight, and on my return Will dined with us.
"By the way," he said, "were you surprised at Vail's death?"
It was three days' news and I had forgotten to mention it.
"He never was the same after the pneumonia, and he worried about his daughter Irene. She came through all right, though. Well, he was over sixty."
"How—what became of Mrs. Leeth?" I asked eagerly.
He smiled oddly.
"Nobody knows. She's never been seen since the funeral."