“Yes,” said Senhouse, “I do. I have to trouble you. I have just heard of John Germain’s death.”
In some sort Duplessis had been prepared for this—but in no way which could have been explained. He was able to take it quietly.
“News travels slowly your way,” he said. “Germain died in July.”
“So I have learned; but it must have been sudden. I happen to know that he was quite well at the beginning of that month; and had not the least reason to expect any such thing.”
“Why should you?” Duplessis was rather famous for impertinence.
Senhouse said, “I’ll tell you. I saw Mrs. Germain early in July”—Duplessis grew red—“In fact, she must have gone directly from the North, where I met her, to her husband’s bedside.”
“I think I’ll interrupt you for one moment,” Duplessis said. “You are probably as interested in saving time as I am. Therefore the sooner I know how I can serve you the better for both of us.” Bingo who had been looking with gloomy interest at the root of his tail, here attacked it with ferocity. Senhouse laughed.
“I’ll tell you. Mrs. Germain has disappeared.”
Duplessis asked, “Do you want me to find her for you?”
“I want you,” said Senhouse, “to tell me where she is.”