She had put on the fur cloak in which she had walked to the
cottage--the fire was out and the room cold; framed in the furs, the
outline of her face looked softer.
"So we stand more or less as we did before the burglars appeared on the
scene," she commented.
"Except that our personal exertions have saved that money."
"I suppose you would prefer that all the circumstances shouldn't come
out? There have been irregularities."
"I should prefer that, not so much on my own account--I don't know and
don't care what they could do to me--as for the old man's sake."
"If I know you, I think you would rather enjoy being able to keep your
secret. You like having the laugh of people. I know that myself, Mr.
Beaumaroy." She exchanged a smile with him. "You want a death certificate
from me," she added.
"I suppose I do," Beaumaroy agreed.
"In the sort of terms in which I described Mr. Saffron's death to Captain
Alec? If I gave such a certificate, there would remain nothing--well,
nothing peculiar--except the--the appearance of things in the Tower."
Her eyes were now fixed on his face; he nodded his head with a smile of
understanding.
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