Anthony Disposes of a Body
Anthony followed Virginia out of the room, smiling a little to himself. Events had taken quite an unexpected turn. But as he bent over the figure in the chair he grew grave again.
“He’s still warm,” he said sharply. “He was killed less than half an hour ago.”
“Just before I came in?”
“Exactly.”
He stood upright, drawing his brows together in a frown. Then he asked a question of which Virginia did not at once see the drift:
“Your maid’s not been in this room, of course?”
“No.”
“Does she know that you’ve been into it?”
“Why—yes. I came to the door to speak to her.”
“After you’d found the body.”
“Yes.”
“And you said nothing?”
“Would it have been better if I had? I thought she would go into hysterics—she’s French, you know, and easily upset—I wanted to think over the best thing to do.”