"She must have caught it from—hem—!—hem!" replied Theodora, coughing gently.
Sir John glowered at her and kept on. "She, too, longed to see the inside of the closet. Her curiosity—do you hear me, madam?—kept her awake, and she spent her nights wandering about the house. One night she missed a step at the top of the stairs and broke her neck. There was no one but myself in the house except the servants."
"Good gracious!" cried Theodora. "How frightened you must have been!"
"My third—"
"Oh, yes—Fatima—my latest predecessor—"
"Well, there was an absurd rumor at the time of Fatima's death—she, too, died of curiosity—that I had been killed by her brothers. Of course the truth came out after a number of unpleasant things had been printed about me. My Uncle Longacre advised me to sue the papers for libel. And now, madam," he said with a malignant smile, "do you still wish to see the closet?"
"Of course I do!" cried Theodora jumping up with the greatest alacrity. "Now more than ever, since it is the remote cause that I am Lady Blood and will one day be Marchioness of Longacre. Come, hurry up with the key."
Sir John gazed at her with a sort of stupefied amazement.
"Rash girl!" he cried. "Do you know what you ask?"