“Is Doctor Benjulia the only person who has spoken to you on the subject?”
“The only person.”
“His information being derived from his friend—the fellow-student whom you mentioned just now?”
“In other words,” Mrs. Gallilee answered viciously, “the father of the wretched girl who has been foisted on my care.”
If Mr. Mool’s courage had been in danger of failing him, he would have found it again now His regard for Carmina, his respect for the memory of her mother, had been wounded to the quick. Strong on his own legal ground, he proceeded as if he was examining a witness in a police court.
“I suppose the doctor had some reason for believing what his friend told him?”
“Ample reason! Vice and poverty generally go together—this man was poor. He showed Doctor Benjulia money received from his mistress—her husband’s money, it is needless to say.”
“Her motive might be innocent, Mrs. Gallilee. Had the man any letters of hers to show?”
“Letters? From a woman in her position? It’s notorious, Mr. Mool, that Italian models don’t know how to read or write.”
“May I ask if there are any further proofs?”