“I think, Sir Edward,” he said, “that in your line of business time counts for little.”
Sir Edward motioned his visitor to a chair and touched the bell.
“I shall require the A3X cipher, Sidney,” he said to his secretary.
Mr. Coulson looked up.
“Why,” he said, “I don’t think you’ll need that. The letter you’ve got in your hand is just a personal one, and what my friend has to say to you is written out there in black and white.”
Sir Edward withdrew the enclosure from its envelope and raised his eyebrows.
“Isn’t this a trifle indiscreet?” he asked.
“Why, I should say not,” Mr. Coulson answered. “My friend—Mr. Jones we’ll call him—knew me and, I presume, knew what he was about. Besides, that is a plain letter from the head of a business firm to—shall we say a client? There’s nothing in it to conceal.”
“At the same time,” Sir Edward remarked, “it might have been as well to have fastened the flap of the envelope.”
Mr. Coulson held out his hand.