"I cannot put it out. I had to tell you—lest you should think—"
"Lest I should think—what?"
"That it was something else that caused his illness."
"But, my dear lady—it was something else. I haven't a doubt about it."
"I know what you mean," she said quickly. "He had been drinking—poor dear."
"How do you know that?"
"The doctor asked me. He asked me if he had been in the habit of taking too much."
Hannay heaved a deep sigh of discomfort and disappointment.
"It's no good," said she, "trying to keep things from me. And there's another thing that I must know."
"You're distressing yourself most needlessly. There is nothing more to know."