"I assume Mrs. Darling never showed you my letter of six years ago."
His voice aroused the officer, who was in a reverie.
"Your—your letter?" he queried uncertainly.
"My letter from Zanzibar, in which I said I was starting for the world's end."
"Yes, I saw that."
"And still you refused to believe? How often our wishes guide our reason."
Something of resentment, of indignation, struck a light in Darling's pale eyes, but his voice held to a monotone.
"I couldn't. I—" He hesitated, took a handkerchief from his pocket, and wiped his perspiring brow. "You see, I—I didn't know your hand, and—well, the signature might have been any one's. It was, if I remember, your Christian name only."
"You mean you suspected that Nina was playing you a trick?"
"I—I didn't say so."