“I say,” she said shakily, “that we must close down. It’s only a question of hours—it must be—before a mob arrives. And then we shall be torn in pieces.”
“My dear,” said Titus, “come home and sleep it off. Of course you can’t please everyone, and of course we’ve had complaints. Every firm has.”
“When? You never told me.”
Cheviot shrugged his shoulders.
“It wasn’t worth while.” He pointed to a file on the table. “There are some of them. But business keeps up.”
Blanche fell upon the file with shaking fingers.
As she peered at their contents, sentence after sentence flamed.
A barefaced attempt . . . I defy you to take action . . . the most horrifying result . . . brazen impudence . . . I shall do my utmost to expose . . . actuated by malice . . . an offence against decency . . . full particulars to the Commissioner of Police . . . inwardly ravening wolves. . . .
Blanche let the file go and put her hands to her head.
“And yet he’s gone on!” she wailed.