“Such a fog,” she said fretfully. “I can’t see you. Can’t you keep that door shut, Jenny?” Then—“Well, Kent—why not? Why not?”
He said slowly—
“It’s not decent.”
She flared at once.
“Decent! Not decent! What on earth do you mean?”
He kept her waiting while he thought it out.
“I mean—it’s not right, it’s not fair. To whomever it was written, that’s her business, not our business. And that letter——It’s vile, anyway, publishing her letters.”
She stared at him in a sort of angry bewilderment.
“But why? I shall write her life. One always does print letters.”
“Not that sort of letter,” he said.