She made no attempt at denial. "Yes, I have often been here. I'll answer any question you like to put—and answer it truthfully.
"What I know is enough. I impute no more than I know."
"I thank you for that at least. It's only justice, but justice must be hard to give—from you to me."
"But what I know is—enough."
"You've a perfect right to say so."
Both were speaking calmly and quietly. There was no trace of passion in their voices. Neither took any heed of me, but I stayed—since she had not bidden me go.
He took a letter from his pocket. I recognized the large square envelope as of the shape which Jenny used.
"The letter you were so good as to send me this afternoon," he said, holding it up in his hand.
"Yes."
"I read it with very great pleasure." He tore it into four pieces and flung them on the table before him. They lay there between him and Jenny. He looked at her with a smile. "You're not like Eleanor Lacey for nothing," he said.