In two words Juve introduced himself to the doctor; then expressed his sorrow for Dixon's plight.
"These are only contusions, M. Juve. Serious enough, but nothing more. By the by, M. Dixon may congratulate himself upon owning muscles of exceptional vigour. Otherwise, from the grip he must have undergone, his body would be no more than a shapeless pulp."
Juve pricked up his ears. He had heard before of bones snapped and broken under a strain that neither flesh nor muscle could resist. The mysterious death of Lady Beltham at once occurred to his memory.
"Mr. Dixon, you will tell me all the details of the tragic night you have passed through. You probably dined in Paris last evening?"
The sick man replied in a fairly firm voice:
"No, sir, I dined at home alone."
"Is that your usual habit?"
"No, sir, but between five and seven I had been training hard for my match which was to have come off to-morrow with Joe Sans."
"Do you think your opponent would have been capable of trying to injure you to keep you out of the ring?"
"No, Joe Sans is a good sportsman; besides, he lives at Brussels, and isn't due in Paris till to-morrow."