“How did you know Moroni?” I asked quickly.
“I think he became interested in her through one of the doctors to whom Mrs. Tennison took her.”
“Mrs. Tennison did not know Moroni before this affair?” I inquired.
“No, sir. Not to my knowledge. He’s a very nice gentleman, and has been awfully kind to Miss Gabrielle,” replied Mrs. Alford. “Like all the other doctors he thinks that she has sustained some very severe shock—but of what nature nobody can tell.”
“What other doctor has seen her?” I asked.
“Oh!—well, Sir Charles Wendover, in Cavendish Square, has taken a great interest in her. He has seen her several times, but seems unable to restore her to her normal state of mind.”
Sir Charles was one of our greatest mental specialists, I knew, and if he had been unable to do anything, then her case must be hopeless.
“But Doctor Moroni took her away to Italy,” I said. “For what reason?”
“He took her to Professor Casuto, of Florence—I think that’s the name—but he could do nothing, so she was brought back again.”
“Now tell me frankly, Mrs. Alford,” I said, looking the stout, well-preserved woman full in the face. “Have you ever heard the name of De Gex—a rich gentleman who lives in Stretton Street, just off Park Lane?”