The girl was compelled to reply in the negative.
“But what do they say against him?” she demanded breathlessly.
“There’s a lot of funny stories,” was Sherrard’s reply. “They say he’s hiding from the police because he attempted to murder a notorious woman called Mademoiselle of Monte Carlo. Do you know about it?”
“It’s a wicked lie!” blurted forth the girl. “Hugh never attempted to kill the woman!”
Sherrard looked straight into her blue eyes, and asked:
“Then why was he in her room at midnight? They say the reason Henfrey is hard-up is because he spent all he possessed upon the woman, and on going there that night she laughed him to scorn and told him she had grown fond of a rich Austrian banker. After mutual recriminations, Henfrey, knowing the woman had ruined him, drew out a revolver and shot her.”
“I tell you it’s an abominable lie! Hugh is not an assassin!” cried the girl fiercely.
“I merely repeat what I have heard on very good authority,” replied the smug-faced man with the thick red lips.
“And you have of course told my mother that—eh?”
“I didn’t think it was any secret,” he said. “Indeed, I think it most fortunate we all know the truth. The police must get him one day—before long.”