“Go on, I can stand it.”
“But where is the good in paining you needlessly?”
“That stage has passed, old chap. My wife’s memory has almost become a dream to me.”
“Well, it is an extraordinary thing, but that place where—that house at Putney, you know, must have been the new school of the Rev. Septimus Childe.”
“How did you learn that?”
“I have known it for months, ever since the inquest.”
“And you did not tell me?”
“True, but at the time it seemed of no consequence. Now that Mensmore turns out to be a pupil of his, and probably passed the remainder of his early school days at that very establishment, the incident assumes a degree of importance.”
Sir Charles looked earnestly at his friend as he put his next question: “Tell me, Claude, do you seriously believe that Mensmore had anything to do with my wife’s death?”