'When he went out that Sunday morning was he well?'
'He was never better.'
'Did he suffer from a weak heart?'
'He's never had an hour's illness during all the time I've known him.'
Somehow I don't think that was just the answer she expected. She kind of drew her breath, as if she was relieved. The young lady interrupted.
'I don't know, Edith, what it is you're driving at, nor do I as yet at all understand how, or why, Mrs. Merrett associates Douglas with her husband.'
'Nor I. But here comes Douglas to answer for himself.'
As she said it the room door opened, and in came a gentleman. He was very tall, and his brown hair, which was curly, was just turning grey; as, likewise, was his big moustache, which turned up at the ends. His good looks were not what I had expected: and his sweet smile reminded me of the lady who had been asking me questions. Somehow he looked worried--downright ill, indeed; and he had a queer way of starting at nothing, and looking about him, as if he saw and heard something which you didn't, which would soon have got upon my nerves.
'Douglas,' said the young lady, 'here is some one who wishes to ask you a question.'
She spoke as if she was sure he'd find the question an amusing one. But as soon as I set eyes upon him I knew better. Although he smiled at the two ladies as he came in, all the while he was glancing at me in a fidgety sort of way as if he resented my intruding.