“Did you write it?” cried Olive, turning to the wraith-like girl who sat so quietly behind her.
“Oh, no, no, no! I didn’t write it,” and the demure little face showed a fleeting smile.
“Then how did you know? For it is signed ‘A Friend,’ but I don’t know whether it was a woman who wrote it or not.”
“It was,” and Zizi nodded her sleek little black head. She had removed her hat and placed it on a nearby chair, and as she nestled into her furs which formed a dark background, her small white face looked more eerie than ever. “Ninety per cent. of all anonymous letters are written by women, and ninety per cent. of these are signed ‘A Friend.’ Though usually that is a misstatement.”
“May I see the letter?” asked Wise.
“Sure; I’ll get it.”
It was Zizi who spoke! And rising, she went swiftly across the room, to a desk, and from a pigeonhole took an opened letter, which she carried to Wise, and then dropped back into her seat again.
Mrs. Vail gave a surprised gasp, and Olive looked her amazement.
“How did you know where to find that?” she exclaimed, her great brown eyes wide with wonder.
“Dead easy,” said Zizi, nonchalantly; “you’ve scarcely taken your eyes off that spot, Miss Raynor, since the letter was mentioned!”