"But YOU know, at any rate," said Newman.
She slowly turned her vague eyes upon Newman, squeezing her hands
together in her lap. "You are not quite faithful, sir. I thought it was
to tell me about Mr. Valentin you asked me to come here."
"Oh, the more we talk of Mr. Valentin the better," said Newman. "That's
exactly what I want. I was with him, as I told you, in his last hour.
He was in a great deal of pain, but he was quite himself. You know what
that means; he was bright and lively and clever."
"Oh, he would always be clever, sir," said Mrs. Bread. "And did he know
of your trouble?"
"Yes, he guessed it of himself."
"And what did he say to it?"
"He said it was a disgrace to his name--but it was not the first."
"Lord, Lord!" murmured Mrs. Bread.
"He said that his mother and his brother had once put their heads
together and invented something even worse."
"You shouldn't have listened to that, sir."
"Perhaps not. But I DID listen, and I don't forget it. Now I want to
know what it is they did."
Mrs. Bread gave a soft moan. "And you have enticed me up into this
strange place to tell you?"
"Don't be alarmed," said Newman. "I won't say a word that shall be
disagreeable to you. Tell me as it suits you, and when it suits you.
Only remember that it was Mr.
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