“By repute.”
“Why?”
“Well, her father was connected with one of the strangest and most extraordinary incidents in my life,” he said. “Even to-day, the mystery of it all has not been cleared up. I have tried, times without number, to elucidate it, but have always failed.”
“What part did Sylvia play in the affair, may I ask?”
“Really,” he replied, “I scarcely know. It was so utterly extraordinary—beyond human credence.”
“Tell me—explain to me,” I said, instantly interested. What could this man know of my well-beloved?
He was silent for some minutes. We were still standing by the steps. Surely it was scarcely the place for an exchange of confidences.
“I fear that monsieur must really excuse me. The matter is purely a personal one—purely confidential, and concerns myself alone—just—just as your close acquaintanceship with Mademoiselle Sylvia concerns you.”
“It seems that it concerns other persons as well, if one may judge by what has recently occurred.”