“But Mrs. Leroux”...
“Mrs. Leroux!”
Gianapolis twirled around in the chair, his eyes squinting demoniacally:—“Mrs. Leroux!”
“She—she”...
“What about Mrs. Leroux?”
“Isn't she dead?”
“Dead! Mrs. Leroux! You are laboring under a strange delusion, Soames. The lady whom you saw was not Mrs. Leroux.”
Soames' brain began to fail him again.
“Then who,” he began....
“That doesn't concern you in the least, Soames. But what does concern you is this: your connection, and my connection, with the matter cannot possibly be established by the police. The incident is regrettable, but the emergency was dealt with—in time. It represents a serious deficit, unfortunately, and your own usefulness, for the moment, becomes nil; but we shall have to look after you, I suppose, and hope for better things in the future.”