Sybil saw that she must interfere, or Laurence would not be permitted to open the sheet; so she hurried up with hysteric sobs, and threw her arms about Hinchley.
"No violence!" she sobbed. "Oh, don't quarrel, Mr. Hinchley, don't."
While he vainly tried to extricate himself from her hold, Laurence tore open the letter and read it. He would hardly have been human had he not given way to the storm of fury which swept over him.
The writing was Margaret's, the letter signed with her name, and it revealed the story of her wretchedness, her desire to free herself from her engagement, and her belief that she was loved by Hinchley. The note went on to say that he need have no scruples about seeking her hand, as she was determined never to marry Laurence.
The young man dropped the letter with a groan.
Sybil released Hinchley, whose anger seemed to have changed to pity at the sight of his former friend's distress.
"She never wrote it, Laurence," he exclaimed. "I would pledge my life on it."
"Who then?" he answered. "Is there another woman on earth brazen enough to have written it?"
"How can I tell? But I would stake my life that it is a forgery."
He glanced at Sybil; something in her attitude brought back his old suspicions, but they were so vague, her innocence in the present matter so apparent, that it would have seemed madness to have spoken of them. Again Laurence turned upon him most furiously, and hurled such terrible epithets and charges against him, that no man of courage could have endured them.