"You knew Mrs. Ormond, too, I believe," the psychologist pursued.

I owned that I used to go to the Ormonds' house.

"Then you know what a type she was, I suppose," he turned to the others,
"and as they're both dead it's no contravention of the club etiquette
against talking of women, to speak of her. I can't very well give the
instance--the sign--that Rulledge is seeking without speaking of her,
unless I use a great deal of circumlocution." We all urged him to go on,
and he went on. "I had the facts I'm going to give, from Mrs. Ormond. You
know that the Ormonds left New York a couple of years ago?"

He happened to look at Minver as he spoke, and Minver answered: "No; I
must confess that I didn't even know they had left the planet."

Wanhope ignored his irrelevant ignorance. "They went to live
provisionally at a place up the Housatonic road, somewhere--perhaps
Canaan; but it doesn't matter. Ormond had been suffering some time with
an obscure affection of the heart--"

"Oh, come now!" said Rulledge. "You're not going to spring anything so
pat as heart-disease on us?"

"Acton is all ears," said Minver, nodding toward me. "He hears the weird
note afar."

The psychologist smiled. "I'm afraid you're not interested. I'm not much
interested myself in these unrelated instances."