“Lady Ferringhall, sir. I think a wife a needless incumbrance, and mean to die a bachelor. It was a neat, efficient-looking room, with a writing-table placed with a business-like regard to the window, and a bookcase surmounted by a pig’s skull, a dissected frog in a sealed bottle, and a pile of shiny, black-covered note-books. It is that, is it not?” “No,” he answered readily. After all, he had the means of setting this tormenting doubt at rest. ” Chapter XXXII SIX MONTHS AFTER Up the moss-grown path, where the rose bushes run wild, almost met, came Anna in a spotless white gown, with the flush of her early morning walk in her cheeks, and something of the brightness of it in her eyes. “Forgive me, madam,” he said stiffly, “but in such a case as this it is better that nothing in the room should be disturbed until the arrival of the police. It doesn’t matter. “I’ll ruin your suit. He’s terrible!” “Dad!” Lucy smiled at John. .
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