"I fear we're too late," he whispered to Thames. "A thousand pounds," he observed, gloomily, "is a heavy price to pay for doubtful secrecy, when certain silence might be so cheaply procured. ‘What in God’s name is going on?’ Glancing swiftly towards the doorway, Gerald saw his friend’s disbelieving face and burst out, speaking over the top of Melusine as she made another grab for the little square of linen. You cannot do a murder and expect that you will not be punished. But not a word to him of Lady Trafford's absence—mind that. “Believe me, I know. “I murder people, John. It is generally deficient in the qualities it prides itself upon most.
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