I started, and dropped my cigar on the table.
“Murdered!”
“Yes; and I——”
He fixed his eyes on me, and put his hand up to his throat. Nino was half Neapolitan, and I saw a man being hanged. I picked up my cigar with a hand that slightly shook.
“But,” I said, “I always thought Lady Inley and you were very happy together.”
It sounded banal, even ridiculous, but I hardly knew what to say. I was startled. The tolling of the bell, too, was getting on my nerves.
“One doesn’t write such things,” he said. “You’ve been abroad for years.”
“It’s all right now?”
He nodded.
“I suppose so. Vere has never had the least suspicion.”