He shut up his notes, and, steadily watching my face, waited for me to speak first.
“I understand you, Mr. Playmore,” I beg impetuously. “You believe that Mr. Dexter--”
“Tell me,” he interposed, “what Dexter said to you when he was so good as to confirm your opinion of poor Mrs. Beauly.”
“He said, ‘There isn’t a doubt about it. Mrs. Beauly poisoned her.’”
“I can’t do better than follow so good an example--with one trifling difference. I say too, There isn’t a doubt about it. Dexter poisoned her.
“I never was more in earnest in my life. Your rash visit to Dexter, and your extraordinary imprudence in taking him into your confidence have led to astonishing results. The light which the whole machinery of the Law was unable to throw on the poisoning case at Gleninch has been accidentally let in on it by a Lady who refuses to listen to reason and who insists on having her own way. Quite incredible, and nevertheless quite true.”
“That Dexter poisoned my husband’s first wife.”
“And why is that impossible, if you please?” I began to be almost enraged with Mr. Playmore.
“Can you ask the question?” I replied, indignantly. “I have told you that I heard him speak of her in terms of respect and affection of which any woman might be proud. He lives in the memory of her. I owe his friendly reception of me to some resemblance which he fancies he sees between my figure and hers. I have seen tears in his eyes, I have heard his voice falter and fail him, when he spoke of her. He may be the falsest of men in all besides, but he is true to _her_--he has not misled me in that one thing. There are signs that never deceive a woman when a man is talking to her of what is really near his heart: I saw those signs. It is as true that I poisoned her as that he did. I am ashamed to set my opinion against yours, Mr. Playmore; but I really cannot help it. I declare I am almost angry with you.”
He seemed to be pleased, instead of offended by the bold manner in which I expressed myself.
“My dear Mrs. Eustace, you have no reason to be angry with me. In one respect, I entirely share your view--with this difference, that I go a little further than you do.”
“You will understand me directly. You describe Dexter’s feeling for the late Mrs. Eustace as a happy mixture of respect and affection. I can tell you it was a much warmer feeling toward her than that. I have my information from the poor lady herself--who honored me with her confidence and friendship for the best part of her life. Before she married Mr. Macallan--she kept it a secret from him, and you had better keep it a secret too--Miserrimus Dexter was in love with her. Miserrimus Dexter asked her--deformed as he was, seriously asked her--to be his wife.”