Chapter SevenDr. Daly came out of the room and shut the door, his cheerful face drawn into lines of appropriate gravity.
“Well, it’s a bad business,” he said,—“and nothing I or any other doctor could have done for him if we’d been here when he fell. Pitched on his right shoulder and broke his neck, by the look of it. You’ll need to notify the police.”
Miss Columba looked him full in the face and said,
“Why?”
“There’s no need for you to worry about it—it’s just the law. When there’s a fatal accident the police must be notified, and it’ll be for the Coroner to say whether there’s to be an inquest. I’d do it for you myself, but I think I had better look in on Captain Jerome. Perhaps this lady—I didn’t catch the name—”
Miss Columba spoke it heavily—“Miss Silver.”
Dr. Daly turned to her,
