Raife replied: “Yes, he was murdered by some blackguard of a burglar. Thank God, the burglar died too.”
The doctor crooned rather than spoke. “We won’t talk of sad things on this bright, sunny morning. Nice is charming, isn’t it, and so full of smart people? The Baroness von Sassniltz is staying here—in this hotel, I’m told.”
“Yes,” responded Raife, “she is a friend of my mother’s, and sometimes stays with us at Aldborough Park.”
“Aldborough Park! Dear me, I’ve heard of that some time. It’s a fine old Tudor place near Tunbridge Wells, isn’t it?”
Raife said: “Yes. It’s a fine old place. It belongs to me. There have been happy days at Aldborough, but yet I cannot help thinking that some people seem to thrive on the misery of others.”
“That’s true,” the doctor crooned again, “It’s sad, but it’s true.”
Then, cheerfully, Raife said; “I hope, doctor, that you and Miss Tempest will honour me with a visit there some day soon, and we’ll try and make merry again. If we can, we’ll forget that villainous assassin.”
Again Gilda winced, and, dropping her serviette, stooped to pick it up, thus hiding a scarlet flush that suffused her cheeks.
Without replying to the invitation and, with a suddenness that appeared to be anent nothing, Doctor Malsano said:
“Oh, Sir Raife, I’ve forgotten to express my thanks to you for the charming talisman you have presented to my niece, which I see she is wearing around her neck!”