She looked at him, at first questioning, then awe-stricken.
"Then he was struck? Lord!"
Her red mouth gaped.
"It was in the papers," Julian said, "At the European Hotel."
"That was the place. Lord! I never see the papers. Dead is he? I am glad."
Her relief was obvious, yet almost shocking, and Julian could not question her good faith. She had certainly not known. He longed to find out more about her relations with Marr, and his treatment of her, but she shied away from the subject. Obviously she really loathed and detested the remembrance of him.
"But why do you keep his photograph?" Julian asked at last.
The lady seemed puzzled.
"I dunno," she said at last. "I don't seem as if I could burn it. But if he is gone—dead, I mean—really—"
"He is."