“In God’s name!” he cried, glancing round as though the very furniture must not hear such a word so applied.
“It was so obvious,” I observed, with a carelessness more affected than real.
He sat in silence for some moments as he fingered the paper, and then striking a match burnt it with great deliberation, watching it jealously until every stroke of my writing was consumed.
“You say Charlotte has had this nearly a week?”
“The date was on it. I am always methodical,” I replied, slowly. “I meant to prove to you that I can read things.”…
No details have been added.