We were all sorry for Carlo, the old familiar friend who had
snapped at us for so many years; and the mysterious mode of his
death made us very uncomfortable. Could Signor Brunoni be at the
bottom of this? He had apparently killed a canary with only a word
of command; his will seemed of deadly force; who knew but what he
might yet be lingering in the neighbourhood willing all sorts of
awful things!
We whispered these fancies among ourselves in the evenings; but in
the mornings our courage came back with the daylight, and in a
week's time we had got over the shock of Carlo's death; all but Mrs
Jamieson. She, poor thing, felt it as she had felt no event since
her husband's death; indeed, Miss Pole said, that as the Honourable
Mr Jamieson drank a good deal, and occasioned her much uneasiness,
it was possible that Carlo's death might be the greater affliction.
But there was always a tinge of cynicism in Miss Pole's remarks.
However, one thing was clear and certain--it was necessary for Mrs
Jamieson to have some change of scene; and Mr Mulliner was very
impressive on this point, shaking his head whenever we inquired
after his mistress, and speaking of her loss of appetite and bad
nights very ominously; and with justice too, for if she had two
characteristics in her natural state of health they were a facility
of eating and sleeping.
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