"Oh, Hugh Murchison was a darling, so quiet, so sensible, and so strong. If he had been fool enough to ask me to marry him, I would not have given him up for seven thousand pounds."
"But you were prepared to chuck Roddie for that?" suggested her brother quietly.
"I think I let him go a bit too cheap," answered the fair Iris in a reflective voice. "Many girls have got more than I asked for compromising a breach of promise. But to tell the absolute truth, Hugh Murchison hypnotised me a bit. He was so quiet and yet so strong that I felt he could twist me round his little finger."
"We want to get to Cathcart Square," interjected Davis a little impatiently. "We don't seem to be near it yet."
"I must tell my story my own way, it is no use driving me," replied Iris, pouting a little. "Well, as I tell you, he called that day at my flat--that was the beginning of negotiations. Where were we to meet to discuss details? I couldn't have him at my flat, because Roddie was always popping in and out. He couldn't have me at his hotel, because nobody knew whom we might come across, and Roddie was always coming there. He said he would think out a plan and telephone or wire me."
"Ah," said Carrie, with a sigh of relief: she was a very practical person. "Now, I suppose we are coming to it."
Iris, heedless of the interruption, went on with her story.
"Next day he 'phoned me up, and after ascertaining that I was quite alone, told me to meet him at 10 Cathcart Square to resume our conversation."
"Why, in the name of all that is wonderful----" began Reginald Davis, but his sister motioned him to silence.
"Don't interrupt, please, you will know everything in a few minutes. I went to No. 10 Cathcart Square at the time appointed. He opened the door himself. It was a big house in an old-fashioned square, ages old, I should say, and in the front court was an agent's board, intimating that this particular house was to let, furnished."
"I know Cathcart Square well, it's in an old-world quarter of Kensington," interrupted Davis. He added grimly, "I know it well, although I did not have the misfortune to commit suicide there."
"He told me a very funny story. The afternoon of the day before, he had been up to Kensington to visit an old nurse of the family who lived near by. He had strolled round to Cathcart Square to fill up an idle half-hour. He had been struck by the appearance of the house, and loitered before it, when suddenly the door opened, and a somewhat bibulous-looking caretaker came out."
