ods. I realise that it is useless to make a public outcry. There is only my own conviction that Margaret came to a violent end, and I cannot expect anyone to pay heed to that.”
“After all, it’s just possible that she really died of heart disease.”
Arthur gave Susie a long look. He seemed to consider her words deliberately.
“Perhaps there are means to decide that conclusively,” he replied at length, thoughtfully, as though he were talking to himself.
“What are they?”
Arthur did not answer. When they came to the door of the house in which they were living he stopped.
“Will you go in? I wish to take a walk by myself,” he said.
Susie looked at him anxiously.
“You’re not going to do anything rash?”
“I will do nothing till I have made quite sure that Margaret was foully murdered.”
He turned on his heel and walked quickly away. It was late now, and they found a frugal meal waiting for them in the little sitting-room. It seemed no use to delay it till Arthur came back, and silently, sorrowfully, they ate. Afterwards the doctor smoked cigarettes, while Susie sat at the open window and looked at the stars. She thought of Margaret, of her beauty and her charming frankness, of her fall and of her miserable end; and she began to cry quietly. She knew enough of the facts now to be aware that the wretched girl was not to blame for
