The man
was made up to represent my man Olinto--I believe you've seen him in
Leghorn?"
"What! They've killed Olinto?" he gasped, starting from his chair.
"No. The fellow was made up very much like him. But his wife Armida was
killed."
"They killed the woman, and believed they had also killed her husband,
eh?" he said bitterly through his teeth, and I saw that his strong hands
grasped the arms of his chair firmly. "And Martin Woodroffe is engaged
to Muriel Leithcourt. Are you certain of this?"
"Yes; quite certain."
"And is there no suspicion as to who is the assassin of the woman
Santini and this mysterious man who posed as her husband?"
"None whatever."
For some time Jack Durnford smoked in silence, and I could just
distinguish his white, hard face in the faint light, for it was now
late, and the big electric lamps had been turned out and we were in
semi-darkness.
"That fellow shall never marry Muriel," he declared in a fierce, hoarse
voice. "What you have just told me reveals the truth.
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