"Yes," she said at last; "yes, it was every bit of it true--every bit,
Mr. Headland. For the moment, in that room of terror, I had forgotten
poor Franco's death. But now--yes, I can remember it all fully. My uncle
spoke the truth, Mr. Headland--I can promise you that."
Cleek sighed. Then:
"But it was _your_ revolver he used, Miss Brellier? Try to remember. He
said that he told you of it at the time. Can you recollect your uncle
telling you that he used your revolver to shoot the dog with, or not?
That is what I want to know."
She shrugged her shoulders and spread out her hands.
"It is so _difficile_. I am trying to remember, and the matter seemed
then so trivial! But there is no reason to doubt my uncle, Mr. Headland,
for he loves Nigel dearly, and if there was any way in which he could
help to unravel this so terrible plot against him--Oh! I am _sure_ he
must have told me so, _sure_! There would be no point in his telling an
untruth over that."
"And yet you can not recall the actual remark that your uncle made, Miss
Brellier?"
"No.
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