We made a very careful and particular examination." "And--the result ?" asked Allerdyke eagerly.

"Is it what you anticipated from your first glance at him--here ?" The doctor's face became a shade graver; his voice assumed an oracular tone.
"My two colleagues," he said, "agreed that your cousin's death resulted from heart failure which arose from what we may call ordinary causes.
There is no need for me to go into details--it is quite sufficient to say that they are abundantly justified in coming to the conclusion at which they have arrived: it is quite certain that your cousin's heart had recently become seriously affected.

But as regards myself"-- here he paused, and looking narrowly from one to the other of his two hearers, he sank his voice to a lower, more confidential tone--"as regards myself, I am not quite so certain as Dr.Lydenberg and Dr.Quillet appear to be.
The fact of the case is, I think it very possible that Mr.James Allerdyke was--poisoned." Neither of the two who listened so intently made any reply to this significant announcement.

Instead they kept their eyes intently fixed on the doctor's grave face; then they slowly turned from him to each other, exchanging glances.

And after a pause the doctor went on, speaking in measured and solemn accents.
"There is no need, either, at present--only at present--that I should tell you why I think that," he continued.