Seton paused, glancing at his audience; and:
“If you please,” whispered Rita. “Monte knows and I know—why—she killed him. But we don’t know—”
“The nasty details,” said Quentin Gray. “Carry on, Seton. Are you agreeable, Irvin?”
“I am anxious to know,” replied Irvin, “for I believe Sir Lucien deserved well of me, bad as he was.”
Seton clapped his hands, and an Egyptian servant appeared, silently and mysteriously as is the way of his class.
“Cocktails, Mahmoud!”
The Egyptian disappeared.
“There’s just time,” declared Margaret, gazing out across the prospect, “before sunset.”
CHAPTER XLIII.
THE STORY OF THE CRIME
“You are all aware,” Seton continued, “that Sir Lucien Pyne was an admirer of Mrs. Irvin. God knows, I hold no brief for the man, but this love of his was the one redeeming feature of a bad life. How and when it began I don’t profess to know, but it became the only pure thing which he possessed. That he was instrumental in introducing you, Mrs. Irvin, to the unfortunately prevalent drug habit, you will not deny; but that he afterwards tried sincerely to redeem you from it I can positively affirm. In seeking your redemption he found his own, for I know that he was engaged at the time of his death in extricating himself from the group. You may say that he had made a fortune, and was satisfied; that is your view, Gray. I prefer to think that he was anxious to begin a new life and to make himself more worthy of the respect of those he loved.