The Woman in BlackBentley, E. C. (Edmund Clerihew)
General
The Woman in Black
Bentley, E. C. (Edmund Clerihew)
Detective and mystery stories; Trent, Philip (Fictitious character) -- Fiction
"Mrs. Manderson," said Trent, slowly measuring his words, "I won't make
it worse for you than I can help. But I am bound to make it bad for
you--only between ourselves, I hope. As to whether you can properly tell
me what I shall ask you, you will decide that; but I tell you this on my
word of honor: I shall ask you only as much as will decide me whether to
publish or to withhold certain grave things that I have found out about
your husband's death, things not suspected by any one else, nor, I
think, likely to be so. What I have discovered--what I believe that I
have practically proved--will be a great shock to you in any case. But
it may be worse for you than that; and if you give me reason to think it
would be so, then I shall destroy this manuscript"--he laid a long
envelop on the small table beside him--"and nothing of what it has to
tell shall ever be printed. It consists, I may tell you, of a short
private note to my editor, followed by a long despatch for publication
in the _Record_. Now you may refuse to say anything to me. If you do
refuse, my duty to my employers, as I see it, is to take this up to
London with me to-day and leave it with my editor to be dealt with at
his discretion. My view is, you understand, that I am not entitled to
suppress it on the strength of a mere possibility that presents itself
to my imagination. But if I gather from you--and I can gather it from no
other person--that there is substance in that imaginary possibility I
speak of, then I have only one thing to do as a gentleman and as one
who"--he hesitated for a phrase--"wishes you well. I shall suppress that
despatch of mine. In some directions I decline to assist the police.
Have you followed me so far?" he asked with a touch of anxiety in his
careful coldness; for her face, but for its pallor, gave no sign as she
regarded him, her hands clasped before her and her shoulders drawn back
in a pose of rigid calm. She looked precisely as she had looked at the
inquest.
"I understand quite well," said Mrs. Manderson in a low voice. She drew
a deep breath, and went on: "I don't know what dreadful thing you have
found out, or what the possibility that has occurred to you can be, but
it was good--it was honorable of you to come to me about it. Now will
you please tell me?"
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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