Marie Belloc Lowndes

“ It is right to show sorrow when something sad has happened, but do not look as if you yourself were dying! I do not want people to think that you, Lily, were in love with Mr. Ponting.”
Lily felt a shock of disgust. What a vulgar, heartless thing to say! She grew very red, and Aunt Cosy laughed harshly.
And yet the Countess Polda was feeling far better disposed to the girl than was usual with her. As she watched Lily daintily eating her egg, she was telling herself that her guest was certainly a very pretty girl. ”

“ After all, they were very kind to poor Ponting. It's rather too bad they should have had all this worry through him, even if they did lead indirectly to his death.”
“Oh, don't say that!” said Lily, distressed.
Deep in her heart she could not help knowing that it was because of her presence at La Solitude that the unfortunate man had stayed on, and this secret knowledge was a bitter trouble to her—one, too, which she felt she could never confide to anybody as long as she lived.
“Well, but it's true!” persisted Mr. Sharrow. “If he hadn't stayed on there that evening he would be alive to-day. ”

“ He pirouetted round on his heel for a moment, and then bowed.
“Mademoiselle,” he said, “of all your servants I am the humblest and the most devoted, and I regret very much now that I did not compel you to allow me to go into the villa with you yesterday afternoon!”
“I am sorry too,” said Lily in a low voice. “But I don't know—I think Aunt Cosy would have had it out with me just the same after you had gone. She didn't say much till the Count and the man from the police had left the house, and then—oh, then, M. Popeau, I've never seen anybody so angry!” ”

“ It was insane to come every day, as he used to do, to a place like Monte Carlo with all that money on him.”
“What you tell me,” observed M. Popeau musingly, “alters everything, Mr. Sharrow. Of course, the fact that he might have had what was practically a fortune on him would give a very strong motive for his murder!”
“And yet,” exclaimed Mr. Sharrow impatiently, “I told all that to the Commissioner of Police, and it made no impression on him at all.”
“The truth is”—the Frenchman spoke with some heat—“the authorities here at Monaco don't want to believe that a murder is ever committed. ”

“ The Countess was terribly angry that I had gone to the police!”
“I told you she would be,” interjected the Frenchman.
“Yes, I know you told me so. But that didn't seem to make it any better!” Lily smiled, and tried to regain her composure. “Luckily, her son comes to-morrow, and I hope that will make her forget this dreadful, dreadful thing! But I shall never forget it.”
“Indeed you will, and must,” said M. Popeau, and there came a very authoritative tone into his kind voice. “It is your duty to do so, Miss Fairfield. English people have a great sense of duty—I appeal to that sense now! ”

“ Sharrow nodded. “I think he left La Solitude with the idea of catching the ten-thirty train, and that then, on his way down to the station, he was waylaid and murdered.”
“Perhaps that was what did happen.”
But Mr. Sharrow was going on, as if speaking to himself, though addressing her.
“In this cursed place,” he said, “the police are so used to coming across suicides that they won't admit the probability of murder—that must be very convenient for the kind of bandits who infest Monte Carlo! Why, they've had the most awful gang of thieves here during this last fortnight. ”

“ Sharrow.
“I confess that that has been my own theory up to now,” said M. Popeau. “And it would take even more than your curious revelations as to poor Mr. Ponting's peculiar habit of carrying about his money to destroy that theory entirely. I think another thing. I can't help suspecting that a professional thief, or gang of thieves, would have left the little gold snuff-box as well as the watch and the bracelet. They would naturally not care to take away something that could be identified positively as having belonged to their victim.” ”

“ The Commissioner of Police told me himself that they were desperate men who stuck at nothing. One of them when caught yesterday made a slash at his captor with a razor, and hurt him most awfully.”
“But is it likely that any of that gang would have been in that lonely place? It's a sort of deserted garden, with boards up, warning people that it's private property.”
“I know—I know! Of course I've been there——” He spoke with a touch of impatience.
“And then,” said Lily, “surely a thief would have taken away that curious kind of gold bangle poor Mr. Ponting wore? ”

“ He turned courteously to Count Polda. “I have been wondering if you and Mademoiselle would care to go with me to the Prince of Monaco's beautiful aquarium—I mean, of course, after the sad ceremony is over?” ”