“She did.”
Sammy smiled incredulously. He was a man who had passed through life having singularly escaped all the shadows that lie on it for most men; and he had far more than most what may be termed the faculty for happiness.
“H’m. Depend upon it she came here more on your account than to visit the mysterious Italian.”
“But she saw Miss Gilbert and asked for Massari!” I exclaimed. “It was Miss Gilbert who called me and introduced me. I took her up to the dead man’s room, and the sight of him was a terrible shock to her. She’s not exactly his friend; more his enemy, I think.”
“How could she know Massari was here, pray?”
“Ah! I don’t know that. The Italian was probably followed here after his arrival at Charing Cross.”
“Did she explain why the fellow came here?”
“Yes, she told me various things that have utterly stupefied me,” I answered. “She hints that the Italian and the woman Ina Hardwick were in league to take my life.”
“Your life?” he cried. “What absurd romance has she been telling you? Why you didn’t know Massari until yesterday!”
“That’s just it. But nevertheless there’s some truth in what she alleges. Of that I’m quite convinced.”