There is
something I should be glad if you would do tomorrow," she went on,
looking at him a little wistfully, "You know about--the inquest?"
"Yes," said Collingwood.
"They say we--that is I, because, of course, my mother couldn't--that I
need not be present," she continued. "Mr. Robson--our solicitor--says it
will be a very short, formal affair. He will be there, of
course,--but--would you mind being there, too!--so that you
can--afterwards--tell me all about it?"
"Will you tell me something--straight out?" answered Collingwood,
looking intently at her. "Have you any doubt of any description about
the accepted story of your brother's death? Be plain with me!"
Nesta hesitated for awhile before answering.
"Not of the actual circumstances," she replied at last,--"none at all of
what you call the accepted story. The fact is, I'm not a good hand at
explaining anything, and perhaps I can't convey to you what I mean. But
I've a feeling--an impression--that there is--or was some mystery on
Saturday which might have--and might not have--oh, I can't make it
clear, even to myself.
"If you would be at the inquest tomorrow, and listen carefully to
everything--and then tell me afterwards--do you understand?"
"I understand," answered Collingwood. "Leave it to me."
Whether he expected to hear anything unusual at the inquest, whether he
thought any stray word, hint, or suggestion would come up during the
proceedings, Collingwood was no more aware than Nesta was certain of her
vague ideas.
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