Chapter Thirty Five.
An Evening at Hyde Park Gate.
When Miller returned and found his daughter conscious but prostrate, he naturally attributed it to mal-de-mer, and began to poke fun at her for being ill upon such a calm sea.
She looked at me in meaning silence.
Then, when he had left us to walk towards the stern, she said in a low, apologetic voice:—
“Forgive me, Mr Leaf. I—I’m so very foolish. But what you have told me is so amazing. Tell me further—what have the police found at the villa?”
I wondered whether she had seen in any of the Italian papers an account of the second discovery—the man who had been so brutally done to death.
“Well, from what I gather the police found a dead woman locked in Nardini’s study.”
“And has she been identified?” she asked eagerly.