The Count stopped. Dorothy smiled sadly, deeply touched by the tenderness and admiration which this letter so clearly displayed. She asked:
"That isn't all, is it?"
"The letter itself ends there," said the Count. "Dated the 16th of January, it was not posted till the 20th. I did not receive it, for various reasons, till three weeks later. And I learnt later that on the 15th of January Jean d'Argonne had a more violent attack of fever, of that fever which baffled the surgeon-major and which indicated a sudden infection of the wound of which your father died ... or at least——"
"Or at least?" asked the young girl.
"Or at least which was officially stated to be the cause of his death," said the Count in a lower voice.
"What's that you say? What's that you say?" cried Dorothy. "My father did not die of his wound?"
"It is not certain," the Count suggested.
"But then what did he die of? What do you suggest? What do you suppose?"