“I am, indeed,” Wise said, very gravely; “and my first work must be a deep investigation of all Mr Varian’s affairs. You were entirely in his confidence, Mrs Varian?”
“Oh, yes; we had no secrets from one another. He told me all his financial ventures or business worries. There were none of those of late, but years ago, there were some. Yes, I may say I know everything that ever happened to my husband.”
“Then who has been blackmailing him of late, and what for?”
“Blackmail!” Minna looked blank. “Never such a thing as that has happened to my husband!” She spoke proudly and positively.
“You know of no one who had a hold over Mr Varian,—or thought he had,—and who wrote him threatening letters?”
“Most assuredly not! And I know that nothing of the sort ever did occur, for he would most certainly have told me. We were more confidential than most married people, and we never had secrets from one another.”
“Well, perhaps I am over-imaginative.”
“What made you think it?” asked Minna, curiously; “if you have found any letters you can’t explain, show them to me,—I can doubtless tell you about them.”
After a moment’s hesitation, Wise handed her a letter.
It bore neither date nor address, but it read,