I pass on to the next stage in our
enquiry. Will Miss King murder her next husband?"
"If she's Mrs. Lorimer," said the Major, "and if Mrs. Lorimer
murdered--"
"There are no 'ifs' about the matter," said Meldon; "she unquestionably
will. She told me so herself, and whatever else she is she's a woman
of her word. There remains now only one question, Who is her next
husband to be? And the answer to that may be given in two
syllables--Simpkins."
"If you really believe all that," said the Major, "and--"
"I do," said Meldon.
"Then you're going to commit a horrible crime, and I insist on your
stopping at once."
"I can't stop it now. I've set the thing going, and it can't be
stopped. You might have stopped it yesterday, but you're too late now.
I'm sorry for poor Simpkins myself. I thought him a decent enough sort
of man."
"He's a cad."
"There you are again. In one breath you try to stop me, and in the
very next breath you urge me strongly to go on. Which do you mean?
Not that it matters, for the thing is as good as done now. Still you
ought to try and cultivate the habit of definitely making up your mind,
and then sticking to it.
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