Mabel Saker, somewhat frightened, pretended inordinate concern.
“Oh, Mr. Strong, the truth has been too much for you. I have been clumsy. Oh—”
The old man quieted her with a gesture of the hand.
“If you would be kind to me,” he said, “please tell me quickly all you know. It was a conspiracy, I suppose.”
Miss Saker began to lose her melodramatic action.
“Major Maltravers—”
“Major Maltravers. Exactly.”
“He was in love with Ophelia Gusset.”
“Exactly.”
“Ophelia was sick of your son.”