“I found this on a table in the Public Library,” he stated. “Your directions were so explicit that I could do no less than be guided by them.”
There was something so solemn, almost judicial, about her guest that Madge became quite awestruck.
“Won’t you please take a seat?” she 117 begged, humbly. “I think I could apologise better if you were to sit down.”
“Then you consider that there is occasion to apologise?” he asked, taking the proffered chair, and resting his hat upon the floor.
“Indeed, yes!” said Madge. “It’s perfectly dreadful to think of the letter having fallen into the hands of any one so—” and she broke short off.
“So what?” asked Mr. Spriggs.
“Why, so dignified and so—very different from—” but again she found herself unable to finish her sentence.
“From a ‘dear pickpocket?’” he suggested.
“Did I say ‘dear pickpocket’?” cried Madge in consternation. “I didn’t know I said ‘dear.’”
“I suppose you desired to make a favourable impression, in order to get your picture back. There are some very good points about the picture,” he remarked, as he took it out of the case and examined it. “There’s a good deal of drawing in it, and considerable colour.” 118