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Page 109
I looked again into the tragic face, and realized that this was an
older woman than the brilliant hostess I had known. She sighed,
shrugged, and:
"Tell me, M. Knox," she continued, "it was swift and merciful, eh?"
"Instantaneous," I replied, in a low voice.
"A good shot?" she asked, strangely.
"A wonderful shot," I answered, thinking that she imposed unnecessary
torture upon herself.
"They say he must be taken away, M. Knox, but I reply: not until I have
seen him."
"Madame," began Val Beverley, gently.
"Ah, my dear!" Madame de St�mer, without looking at the speaker,
extended one hand in her direction, the fingers characteristically
curled. "You do not know me. Perhaps it is a good job. You are a man,
Mr. Knox, and men, especially men who write, know more of women than
they know of themselves, is it not so? You will understand that I must
see him again?"
"Madame de St�mer," I said, "your courage is almost terrible."
She shrugged her shoulders.
"I am not proud to be brave, my friend. The animals are brave, but many
cowards are proud. Listen again. He suffered no pain, you think?"
"None, Madame de St�mer."
"So Dr. Rolleston assures me. He died in his sleep? You do not think he
was awake, eh?"
"Most certainly he was not awake."
"It is the best way to die," she said, simply. "Yet he, who was brave
and had faced death many times, would have counted it"----she snapped
her white fingers, glancing across the room to where Inspector
Aylesbury, very subdued, sat upon the brocaded chair twirling his cap
between his hands. "And now, Inspector Aylesbury," she asked, "what is
it you wish me to tell you?"
"Well, Madame," began the Inspector, and stood up, evidently in an
endeavour to recover his dignity, but:
"Sit down, Mr. Inspector! I beg of you be seated," cried Madame. "I
will not be questioned by one who stands. And if you were to walk about
I should shriek."
He resumed his seat, clearing his throat nervously.
"Very well, Madame," he continued, "I have come to you particularly for
information respecting a certain Mr. Camber."
"Oh, yes," said Madame.
Her vibrant voice was very low.
"You know him, no doubt?"
"I have never met him."
"What?" exclaimed the Inspector.
Madame shrugged and glanced at me eloquently.
"Well," he continued, "this gets more and more funny. I am told by
Pedro, the butler, that Colonel Menendez looked upon Mr. Camber as an
enemy, and Miss Beverley, here, admitted that it was true. Yet although
he was an enemy, nobody ever seems to have spoken to him, and he swears
that he had never spoken to Colonel Menendez."
"Yes?" said Madame, listlessly, "is that so?"
"It is so, Madame, and now you tell me that you have never met him."
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