An incredulous smile crossed his features. “Well,” he said, “I don’t know, after all, what right I have to interfere in your private affairs at all, old chap, but if I might be allowed to make an observation I should say that there is some very extraordinary mystery surrounding both the Countess and her daughter.”
“You don’t like the Countess?”
“No, I don’t. I conceived a violent prejudice against her on the first occasion that I saw her. That prejudice has already ripened into—well, I was about to say hatred.”
“Why?”
“Well, I called upon them this afternoon with an object, and found the Countess determined to place impediments in my way.”
“What was your object?”
“I wished to satisfy myself of a certain fact.”
“Of what fact?” I inquired with quick suspicion. “Of the cause of her daughter’s sudden attack last night.”
“And what did you find?” I asked eagerly.
“I discovered a rather curious circumstance,” he said. “You will remember telling me that when you searched the room you found she had written a letter almost immediately before her mysterious attack. Well, when I had a look round that room later I saw the letter sealed in its envelope and addressed to the Baroness Maillac, at Grands Sablons, lying in the little letter-rack, and took possession of it, in the faint hope that it might direct me to some clue as to the cause of her curious condition. You will remember, too, the curious, unaccountable mark upon her lip. I wished to see that mark again. I examined it, but against the wish of the Countess, who appeared to regard me with considerable animosity.”