"Is he dead now?"
"So she says."
"Don＇t you believe her?"
"Yes, because the statement agrees with the probabilities. The husband of Madame Merle would be likely to pass away."
Isabel gazed at her cousin again. "I don＇t know what you mean. You mean something—that you don＇t mean. What was Monsieur Merle?"
"The husband of Madame."
"You＇re very odious. Has she any children?"
"Not the least little child—fortunately."
"Fortunately?"
"I mean fortunately for the child. She＇d be sure to spoil it."