I killed him, Nigel. “Why not?” he exclaimed. Or was that perhaps because his business in Piccadilly the other day had gone awry? Perhaps Brewis Charvill had not welcomed him with open arms. One of the coolies held the paper lantern. Critically, she stared at her own features. I defy you to explain it away. And now her mind was so full of the thought that she was in love—in love!—that marvellous state! that I really believe she had some dim idea of talking to him about it. The lonely widows of robber barons found him irresistible and he was the guest of many a fine table. Think if your own mother was alive!” He paused, deeply moved. Every eye was fixed upon the prisoner.
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