"Very," said Ember dryly. "At the same time, it was none of my affair—then. Nor did it present itself to me as a matter worth meddling with until, later, my suspicions were aroused by the scene in the theatre—obviously the result of your appearance there—and still later, when I heard the suicide report."
"But—good Lord!" Whitaker passed a hand across his dazed eyes. "What can it mean? Why should he do this thing?"
"There are several possible explanations.... How long has Drummond known that you were alive?"
"Since noon to-day."
"Not before?"
"Not to my knowledge."
"Still, it's possible. If he has a sensitive nature—I think he hasn't—the shame of being found out, caught trying to marry your wife when he had positive knowledge you still lived, may have driven him to drop out of sight. Again.... May I ask, what was the extent of your property in his trust?"
"A couple of hundred-thousands."
"And he believed you dead and was unable to find your widow ..."
"Oh, I don't think that!" Whitaker expostulated.