"Oh, doctor, what has happened?" she asked, sobbing volubly.
"A very terrible affair, my dear lady," he answered, recovering his professional manner. "In addition to the death of your husband, which, of course, we expected, I am grieved to tell you that Mr. Francis has come to a terrible end. He is dead too."
Lady Laurence gave a scream, and collapsed, moaning, on a chair, but Anthony stepped forward, his face working convulsively. "What, Francis dead! It's not true, doctor; is it, d'Escombe?" appealing to me. I could see real misery in his eyes. "Say it's not true—tell me, old man."
"It is, Anthony, only too true," I replied, wondering somewhat at his extreme agitation, knowing, as I did, that he and his half-brother were not the closest of friends. "And I fear also that it is not a case of natural death," I added.
"Not natural," he half whispered in a husky tone. "Why—why—what do you mean, Archie? Suicide or?" He feared to continue.
"We know nothing yet; the police have been sent for and the room is locked," I told him. "But, buck up, man, you must face
