“The reason of my warning is that he is her enemy as well as mine,” I said, glancing at the beautiful girl, whose countenance had, alas! now grown inanimate again.
“But I do not understand,” Mrs. Tennison exclaimed. “Why should the doctor be Gabrielle’s enemy?”
“Ah! That I cannot tell—except that he fears lest she should recover and reveal the truth—a serious truth which would implicate him.”
“Do you think he had any hand in the mysterious affair?”
“I certainly do,” was my reply, and then I told her of my journey to Italy, and of my discovery of her daughter with Moroni in Florence.
“But how did you know my daughter?” she asked.
“Because on that fatal night I saw her in a house in London.”
“You saw her! Where?”
“In the house of a mutual enemy.”