There was no room for doubt as to the completeness of the
extinction of Lady Wetherby's pet.
Dudley Pickering's bullet had done its lethal work. Eustace's
adventurous career was over. He was through.
Elizabeth's mouth was trembling, and she looked very white in the
moonlight. Being naturally soft-hearted, she deplored the tragedy
for its own sake; and she was also, though not lacking in courage,
decidedly upset by the discovery that some person unknown had been
roaming her premises with a firearm.
'Oh, Bill!' she said. Then: 'Poor little chap!' And then: 'Who
could have done it?'
Lord Dawlish did not answer. His whole mind was occupied at the
moment with the contemplation of the fact that she had called him
Bill. Then he realized that she had spoken three times and
expected a reply.
'Who could have done it?'
Bill pondered. Never a quick thinker, the question found him
unprepared.
'Some fellow, I expect,' he said at last brightly. 'Got in, don't
you know, and then his pistol went off by accident.'
'But what was he doing with a pistol?'
Bill looked a little puzzled at this.
'Why, he would have a pistol, wouldn't he? I thought everybody
had over here.'
Except for what he had been able to observe during the brief
period of his present visit, Lord Dawlish's knowledge of the
United States had been derived from the American plays which he
had seen in London, and in these chappies were producing revolvers
all the time.
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