'What is this?' asked the stranger evenly. 'Who are you?'
'My name is Hugo,' Hugo answered with assurance. 'I was walking along
the balconies, as I do sometimes at night, and I heard strange sounds
here, and as the window was open I stepped in and found this. Are you a
friend of Mr. Tudor's?'
The other bent in his turn, and after examining the prone body said:
'I was. He has no friends now.'
'You mean he is dead?'
'He must have died within the last quarter of an hour or so.'
'And nothing can be done?'
'Nothing can be done with death!'
'I take it you are a doctor?' said Hugo.
'My name is Darcy,' the other replied. 'Besides being Tudor's friend, I
was his physician.'
'Yet even for a physician,' Hugo pursued, 'it seems to me that you have
been able to decide very quickly that your friend and patient is dead. I
have always understood that to say with assurance that death has taken
place means a very careful and thorough examination.'
'You are right,' Darcy agreed, stroking his short, bright, silky beard.
'There is only one absolute proof of death.'
'And that is?'
'Putrefaction. Nevertheless, the inquest will show whether or not I have
been in error.'
'There will have to be an inquest?'
'Certainly.
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