“She might have fallen forward into that position.”
“I hardly think it likely. Mr. Clark, who was the first inmate of the household to find Mrs. Trevor, testified that her body was literally wedged into the safe.”
“You have but his word for it.”
A peculiar tone in the speaker’s voice caused Dick to glance sharply at him, but he learned nothing from the Russian’s face. It was expressionless. Before Dick could pursue his questions, Miss Gleason threw herself into the conversation.
“How is that dear Mr. Clark bearing up under this terrible tragedy?” she asked, addressing Peggy directly.
“He looked very well the last time I saw him,” said the latter, a twinkle of mischief in her deep blue eyes.
“I am so glad to hear it. You know, dear Mrs. Macallister, he is such a delightful man to have around. He always looks after one so attentively. I never want for anything when he is in the room; and then he is so handsome, so cultivated! It is a dreadful blow having him in mourning.”
“I wasn’t aware he is in mourning,” said Peggy, surprised. “Has he lost a relative?”
“Oh, no. But of course he will accept no invitations now, on account of his engagement to Beatrice Trevor.”
“What!” Peggy nearly overturned the urn in her excitement. “Miss Gleason, you are entirely mistaken. Beatrice never was engaged to Mr. Clark.”