“Unfortunately I shall be unable,” I said. “This evening I received a very urgent telegram which recalls me to town, and having now lost my last train, I must go by the 6:30 in the morning. I cannot get back before late in the evening, or it may be next day. But as soon as possible I will return straight here, and render you whatever assistance is in my power.”
“Thanks. But is your business so very urgent?” she asked.
“Of greatest importance. Poor Dudley’s tragic end has delayed me, and even this brief delay may be of most serious consequence.”
“Ah! you men in the Foreign Office are always full of deep schemes and clever diplomacy,” she smiled, toying with her mass of rings.
I laughed, but did not reply.
“Is it on Foreign Office business that you are compelled to leave us?” she persisted, glancing at me keenly, I thought, as if intent upon ascertaining the purport of the telegram I had received.
“Yes,” I replied, in wonder that she should thus evince such a strong desire to glean the nature of my business. But next instant it occurred to me that possibly she might suspect me of being implicated in some mysterious manner with my friend’s sudden end, and that, believing I desired to escape, was determined at least to know where I was going, and upon what errand.
At that moment Beck crossed to us, saying,—
“This affair is certainly most distressing, Mrs Laing. Dudley was such an excellent fellow that we must each one of us regret his loss very deeply indeed. I have just been discussing the matter with the doctor; but, of course, he can at present form no conjecture as to the cause of death.”
“Natural causes, no doubt,” chimed in the medical man, in a dry, business-like tone. “I think we may at once dismiss all idea that violence was used.”