Then he told me all about it.
“You remember the governess at Hammerton Castle?” he asked.
I nodded.
“Well, it is very sad for Lady Gascoyne, but it appears that Lord Gascoyne had made love to her, that she was about to become a mother, and that she poisoned his tea that evening as she had already poisoned the wine. The servants remember now that she had been in the dining-room. She intended at the time to kill herself as well, but she had not the courage. Last night, however, she did so, having written to your wife and to the Home Secretary, your lawyer, and others, so as to make sure of the news arriving in time.”
I looked at him, striving to hide the sheer horror which I felt for the first time in my life.
I was not surprised at the sacrifice, for it was the sort of gigantic thing that a nature like Esther’s would have conceived and carried out. Nevertheless, the news filled me with a profound gloom.
It was better, however, to be sitting there finishing my coffee and smoking a cigarette than meandering out on to the unknown.
“Sibella has been awfully ill, Israel.”
“Did people think me guilty?” I asked.
He avoided my question, and said: