“You knew her intimately, didn’t you?”
“My dear, she was one of my closest friends. And the jury pretended that she had died of ‘shock!’ Girls of that age don’t die of shock. My belief is that she had some private love affair and—but there, I must not say more.”
“You don’t mean that?”
“Indeed I do. And my suspicion is not based on supposition only. Soon after her death I heard definite rumors, which emanated from trustworthy sources.”
“How dreadful! I hope they didn’t reach her father.”
“I hope so too. He looked dreadfully altered when I met him the other day, but Vera’s sad end no doubt accounts for that.”
A minute or two later the visitor with whom Mrs. Mervyn-Robertson had been conversing rose to go. Other visitors followed her example, among them La Planta.
“I am dining to-night with Mrs. Hartsilver,” he said carelessly as they shook hands.
“Oh!”
A look of sudden interest had come into Mrs. Mervyn-Robertson’s eyes.