"
Gifford rose and stood by the fire-place. "To come to the point at once
without further preliminary fencing," he said quietly, "you mean, I take
it, that I am forcing you to denounce her as being guilty of your
brother's death."
For an instant Henshaw seemed taken aback by the other's directness.
"There can be no doubt, holding the evidence I do, that she was guilty of
it," he retorted uncompromisingly.
"I beg your pardon, Mr. Henshaw," Gifford objected with decision, "there
can be, and is, a very great deal more than a doubt of it."
Henshaw shot a searching glance at the man who spoke so confidently, as
though trying to probe what, if anything, was behind his words.
"Perhaps you know then," he returned with his sneering smile, "how
otherwise, if the lady had no hand in it, my brother came by his death?"
"I do," was the quiet answer.
"Then," still the smile of sneering incredulity, "it is clearly your duty
to make it known."
"Clearly," Gifford assented in a calm tone. "That is why I asked you to
come here this afternoon."
Henshaw was looking at him with a sort of malicious curiosity. In spite
of his smartness he seemed at a loss to divine what the other was driving
at, unless it were a well-studied line of bluff.
Pages:
214
215
216
217
218
219
220
221
222
223
224
225
226
227
228
229
230
231
232
233
234
235
236
237
238