“If I knew that,” replied Dr. Cumberly, “I should know everything; the mystery of the Palace Mansions murder would be a mystery no longer. But I know one thing: Mrs. Leroux's absence has nothing to do with any love affair.”
“What!” exclaimed Denise Ryland. “There isn't another man... in the case? You can't tell me”...
“But I DO tell you!” said Dr. Cumberly; “I ASSURE you.”
“And you have not told—Mr. Leroux?” said Helen incredulously. “You have NOT told him—although you know that the thought—of THAT is?”...
“Is practically killing him? No, I have not told him yet. For—would my news act as a palliative or as an irritant?”
“That depends,” pronounced Denise Ryland, “on the nature of... your news.”
“I suppose I have no right to conceal it from him. Therefore, we will tell him to-day. But although, beyond doubt, his mind will be relieved upon one point, the real facts are almost, if not quite, as bad.”
“I learnt, this morning,” he continued, lighting a cigarette, “certain facts which, had I been half as clever as I supposed myself, I should have deduced from the data already in my possession. I was aware, of course, that the unhappy victim—Mrs. Vernon—was addicted to the use of opium, and if a tangible link were necessary, it existed in the form of the written fragment which I myself took from the dead woman's hand.”...
“A link!” said Denise Ryland.
“A link between Mrs. Vernon and Mrs. Leroux,” explained the physician. “You see, it had never occurred to me that they knew one another.”...