Anton walked slowly to the wall and took down his cap from a nail.
"Is that what you mean?"
"Yes," she flung back.
With a look of grim purpose he moved to the door, opened it and turned, holding the letter.
"Is that your last word, kid?"
For a second she hesitated, then all the strength of her nature, all the pride of her outraged young womanhood rose in fierce revolt.
"Yes," she cried. "You can post your letter; you can do what you please. You're a coward and a beast. A coward and a beast. Now, go! Go!"
CHAPTER XXIX
ENTER GRIMES
In this crisis, as in many another, the deciding influence was a pale yellow liquid poured out of a dark brown bottle—whiskey, in short—without which (several stiff drinks of it) Anton would never have posted that letter to Scotland Yard. He would have realized that such an act could only destroy his chances with Hester, while it might easily react dangerously against himself, for, after all, so far as intention went, he was as deeply involved in the crime as she was. If a detective should come to Ippingford and discover the truth it might be difficult for the chauffeur to explain how he happened to be the person who removed Miss Thompson's golf bag from the country club.