all fancy, that she never could be so
inhuman, and yet how else is it to be explained? You can't go behind the
evidence; you can't make things different simply by saying that you will
not believe." He stirred his tea nervously, gulped down a couple of
mouthfuls of it, and then set the cup aside. "I can't enjoy anything; it
takes the savour out of everything when I think of it," he added, with a
note of pathos in his voice. "My dad, my dear, bully old dad, the best
and dearest old boy in all the world! I suppose, Mr. Headland, that Mr.
Narkom has told you something about the case?"

"A little--a very little indeed. I know that your father went to Java,
and married a second wife there; and I know, too, that you yourself were
rather taken with the lady at one time, and that she threw you over as
soon as Mr. Bawdrey senior became a possibility."

"That's a mistake," he replied. "She never threw me over, Mr. Headland;
she never had the chance. I found her out long before my father became
anything like what you might call a rival, found her out as a mercenary,
designing woman, and broke from her voluntarily. I only wish that I had
known that he had one serious thought regarding her. I could have warned
him; I could have spoken then. But I never did find out until it was too
late. Trust her for that. She waited until I had gone up-country to look
after some fine old porcelains and enamels that the governor had heard
about; then she hurried him off and tricked him into a hasty marriage.
Of course, after that I couldn't speak--I wouldn't speak. She was my
father's wife, and he was so proud of her, so happy, dear old boy, that
I'd have been little better than a brute to say anything against her."

"What could you have said if you had spoken?"

"Oh, lots of things--the things that made me break away from her in the
beginning. She'd had more love affairs than one; her late father's
masquerading as a doctor for another. They had only used that as a
cloak. They had run a gambling-house on the sly--he as the card-sharper,
she as the decoy. They had drained one poor fellow dry, and she had
thrown him over after leading him on to think that she cared for him and
was going to marry him. He blew out his brains in front of her, poor
wretch. They say she never turned a hair. You wouldn't believe it
possible, if you saw her; she is so sweet and caressing, and so young
and beautiful, you'd almost believe her an angel. But there's Travers i