“A family trait,” Brett could not avoid saying.
“It has not been an advantage to us,” she replied mournfully.
They were standing now opposite the library, almost on the spot where her brother fell. They turned and strolled back towards the lodge.
“Robert came to see me,” she resumed. “He paid a visit in unconventional manner—waylaid me, in fact, in this very avenue, and asked me to help him. He declined to meet my husband, and was very bitter about my marriage to a foreigner. However, I forgave him, for my own heart was sore in me, and he also had been unfortunate in a different way. We had a long talk, and I kissed him at parting. I afterwards found that Giovanni had seen us from his bedroom. He thought Robert was David. I do not think he believed me, even when I showed him the counterfoil of my cheque-book, and the amount of a remittance I sent to Robert next day.”
“How much was the sum?”
“Five hundred pounds.”
“And where did you send it?”
“To the Hotel Victoria.”
“In his own name?”
“Certainly.”