"Indeed," said Murchison, with a half-turn towards him.

"How is Mrs. Paul?" inquired Hardy.

"Dead!" replied the other, briefly.

"Dead!" repeated Mr. Hardy. "Good Heavens! I didn't know that there was
much the matter with her."

"There was no hope for her from the first," said Murchison, somewhat
sharply. It was merely a question of prolonging her life a little while.
She lived longer than I deemed possible. She surprised everybody by her
vitality."

"Poor thing," said Hardy. "How is Joe Banks?"

"Dead," said Murchison again, biting his lip and eyeing him furiously.

"Dear me," said Hardy, shaking his head; "I met him not a month ago. He
was on his way to see you then."

"The poor fellow had been an invalid nearly all his life," said
Murchison, to the captain, casually. "Aye, I remember him," was the
reply.

"I am almost afraid to ask you," continued Hardy, "but shut up all day I
hear so little. How is old Miss Ritherdon?"

Murchison reddened with helpless rage; Captain Nugent, gazing at the
questioner with something almost approaching respect, waited breathlessly