bring him out and associate him with this investigation.
I am delighted to see you, said she, pressing my hand warmly. You
will, I am sure, forgive anything that may be wanting in our
arrangements, when you consider the blow which has come so suddenly
upon us.
My dear madam, said I, I am an old campaigner, and if I were not I
can very well see that no apology is needed. If I can be of any
assistance, either to you or to my friend here, I shall be indeed
happy.
Now, Mr. Sherlock Holmes, said the lady as we entered a well-lit
dining-room, upon the table of which a cold supper had been laid out,
I should very much like to ask you one or two plain questions, to
which I beg that you will give a plain answer.
Certainly, madam.
Do not trouble about my feelings. I am not hysterical, nor given to
fainting. I simply wish to hear your real, real opinion.
Upon what point?
In your heart of hearts, do you think that Neville is alive?
Sherlock Holmes seemed to be embarrassed by the question. Frankly,
now! she repeated, standing upon the rug and looking keenly down at
him as he leaned back in a basket-chair.
Frankly, then, madam, I do not.
You think that he is dead?
I do.
Murdered?
I don t say that. Perhaps.
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