"I hope he'll be hung, with all my heart," said Mr. Maule, who
thought that he could read the riddle which had been so
unintelligible in Park Lane.
When Madame Goesler reached Carlton Terrace, which she did before the
time named by the Duchess, her friend had not yet returned. But she
went upstairs, as she had been desired, and they brought her tea. But
the teapot remained untouched till past six o'clock, and then the
Duchess returned. "Oh, my dear, I am so sorry for being late. Why
haven't you had tea?"
"What is the truth of it all?" said Madame Goesler, standing up with
her fists clenched as they hung by her side.
"I don't seem to know nearly as much as I did when I wrote to you."
"Has the man been--murdered?"
"Oh dear, yes. There's no doubt about that. I was quite sure of that
when I sent the letter. I have had such a hunt. But at last I went up
to the door of the House of Commons, and got Barrington Erle to come
out to me."
"Well?"
"Two men have been arrested."
"Not Phineas Finn?"
"Yes; Mr.
Pages:
775
776
777
778
779
780
781
782
783
784
785
786
787
788
789
790
791
792
793
794
795
796
797
798
799