“He thinks it may be a case of suicide. He says the man was morose and unhappy. It would have been quite natural for him to tire of his life and throw it away.”
“Of course,” she said.
Her heart throbbed with relief. She blessed Lord Stuart for his clever thought.
“I am going now to attend the inquest,” Norman continued.
“Oh, pray do not! How can men have the heart to care for such horrible things?” cried Camille.
But all her blandishments could not keep him away.
“I will come back as soon as possible and tell you all about it,” he said, as he kissed her and went away.
Camille flung herself upon a sofa and waited in wild suspense for his return. Presently some callers came in. They could talk of nothing but the murder of Lord Stuart’s handsome valet. She was glad when they went away. It was so hard to keep up an appearance of careless interest when her head was burning and her feet and hands were like ice.
Oh! when would Norman come back? She longed yet dreaded for him to return with the verdict of the coroner’s jury.
Suddenly he appeared before her, pale and with a troubled light in his dark eyes.