“Ah, you do not love me!” she murmured. “You could not be so stern and silent if you loved me! If there is indeed any bad news, you ought to break it to me gently and kindly. I thought you would always make everything easy for me—”
“Such has been my endeavor, madame,” I said interrupting her complaint. “From your own statement, I judged that your adopted brother Guido Ferrari had rendered himself obnoxious to you. I promised that I would silence him—you remember! I have kept my word. He is silenced—forever!”
She started.
“Silenced? How? You mean—”
I moved away from my place behind her chair, and stood so that I faced her as I spoke.
“I mean that he is dead.”
She uttered a slight cry, not of sorrow but of wonderment.
“Dead!” she exclaimed. “Not possible! Dead! You have killed him?”
I bent my head gravely. “I killed him—yes! But in open combat, openly witnessed. Last night he insulted me grossly; we fought this morning. We forgave each other before he died.”
She listened attentively. A little color came back into her cheeks.