“My real name is Claverly,” Carina answered. “Carina Claverly. Does that mean anything to you? Do you remember my father? I do not think – it is likely that you could forget him.”

“Hugo Claverly – I don’t believe it!” Sir Percy ejaculated.

“It happens to be true,” Carina said. “You will recall that you took from him his house and estates in the country. He was so ashamed of having lost them to you that he did not even tell us – who you were. My mother and I had no idea who was the usurper, the intruder, who had snatched our home from a man who was weak and foolish where cards were concerned.”

“Your father was a bad gambler. When he lost, he whined,” Sir Percy said roughly.

“He was a bad gambler in that he played for pleasure,” Carina answered, “and should never have allowed himself to be inveigled into a game with someone like yourself who makes a profession of it. But that is not all – ”

She watched Sir Percy flick his cigar ash onto the floor with a nervous gesture.

“ – You were not content, were you, Sir Percy, with just Claverly? You incited my father to go further and challenged him again – and this time you won from him not only his house in London, but everything else he possessed – ”

She paused for a moment and repeated,

“ – Every penny he possessed.”

“I cannot be responsible for other men’s stupidity,” Sir Percy growled.

“No, but you never let him alone, did you? You never let him get away. He talked of leaving London and decided not to go to the Club again, but you sent a note for him. I can remember the note coming and how my mother pleaded with him not to answer it. ‘It is a point of honour,’ he told her.”

“I was fond of your father, he was good company,” Sir Percy said.

“It was fondness that only lasted, as far as you were concerned, as long as he had any money left,” Carina retorted. “Once you had taken the lot, you had no further use for him.”

“You cannot prove that,” Sir Percy asserted.

“I cannot prove it,” Carina answered, “because you killed him – ”

She saw him start and added,

“Oh, yes, Sir Percy. You killed him as surely as if you had pulled the trigger that sent the bullet through his poor, muddled, unhappy head.”

“It’s a lie. And you know it!” Sir Percy protested.

“On the contrary,” Carina said, “I was told by someone who was in White’s Club that evening that my father drew his pistol and threatened you. But you hid behind your friends and called to them to throw him out of the Club – so he shot himself instead of you.”

“It was a damn silly thing to do,” Sir Percy remarked.