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Page 80
"So do I, Mary. I don't think he would ever have put himself to
such extraordinary trouble if he hadn't felt pretty hopeful."
But Sir Walter doubted.
"He's old and his mind plays him tricks sometimes. No doubt he's
immensely clever; but his cleverness belongs to the past. He has
not moved with the times any more than I have."
"His eye flashes still, and you know he has claws, but, like a dear
old Persian cat, he would never dream of using them."
"I think he would," answered her cousin. "He might spring on
anybody--from behind."
"He is, at any rate, too old to understand democracy."
"He understands it only too well," replied Sir Walter. "Like
myself, he knows that democracy is only autocracy turned inside
out. Human nature isn't constructed to bear any such ideal. It
might suit sheep and oxen--not men."
"He is an aristocrat, a survival, proud as a peacock under his
humility, as kind-hearted as you are yourself, father."
"I rather doubt his kindness of heart," said Henry. "Latins are
not kind. But I don't doubt his cleverness. One must be on one's
guard against first impressions, Mary."
"No, no one mustn't, when they're so pleasant. There is nothing
small or peddling about him. It was angelic of such an old man to
take so much trouble."
Henry Lennox reminded them of practical considerations.
"The first thing is to get the room opened for him. He is going
to see Uncle Walter at eleven o'clock, and he'll want to visit
the Grey Room afterwards. If we get Chubb and a man or two from
the village the first thing in the morning, they can help Caunter
to open the room and have it ready for him after lunch."
Sir Walter rang and directed that workmen should be sent for at
the earliest hour next day.
"I feel doubtful as to what the authorities would say, however,"
he told Henry, when his orders had been taken.
"What can they say, but be well pleased if the infernal thing is
cleared up?"
"It is too good to be true."
"So I should think, but I share Mary's optimism. I honestly
believe that Signor Mannetti knows a great deal more about the Grey
Room than he has let us imagine."
"How can he possibly do that?" asked his uncle.
"Time will show; but I'm going to back him." At eleven o'clock on
the following morning the visitor appeared. He walked with a
gold-headed, ebony cane and dressed in a fashion of earlier days.
He was alert and keen; his mind had no difficulty in concentrating
on his subject. It appeared that he had all particulars at his
fingers' ends, and he went back into the history of the Grey Room
as far as Sir Walter was able to take him.
"We are dealing with five victims to our certain knowledge," he
said, "for there is very little doubt that all must have suffered
the same death and under the same circumstances."
"Four victims, signor."
"You forget your aged relative--the lady who came to spend
Christmas with your father, when you were a boy, and was found
dead on the floor. Colonel Vane, however, recollected her, because
you had mentioned her when telling the story of Mrs. Forrester--
Nurse Forrester."
"I never associated my aged aunt with subsequent tragedies--nobody
did."
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