"But eet have geeve to me so joyous extrodinaire eet to know!"
She regarded him shrewdly, then dropping her eyes, she asked:—
"Was it better than the other one?"
"De oder?" he repeated, evidently taken by surprise. "Ah, dat alone also have I treasured too mooch."
Mrs. Harbinger broke out frankly into a laugh.
"Come," she said, "I have caught you. You know nothing about any other. We might as well be plain with each other. I didn't write that letter and you didn't write 'Love in a Cloud,' or you'd know about the whole correspondence."
"Ah, from de Edengarten," cried the Count, "de weemens ees too mooch for not to fool de man. Madame ees for me greatly too clevaire."
"Thank you," she said laughingly. "Then give me the letter."
He bowed, and shrugged, and smiled deprecatingly; but he shook his head.
"So have Mees Endeecott say. Eef to her I geeve eet not, I can geeve eet not to you, desolation as eet make of my heart."