At length the other looked up.
“Quite right,” he said comfortably. He pointed to a pile of envelopes. “There are the twenty-two copies. Will you take them also? Or shall I burn them now?”
“Burn them, please.”
The Master stepped to the fireplace, set the envelopes in the grate, and lighted a gas jet which was fixed beneath the bars.
The papers began to flame almost at once.
In silence the two men stood, watching them burn.
Presently The Master turned and, picking up his own letter, added that to the pyre.
“A distressing incident,” he said, “now happily closed. This little room has seen the dissipation of so many tragedies.”
“You don’t say so?” said Simon dryly. “It’s almost a shrine, isn’t it?”
The other laughed.