“I can see your point of view; but after her letter, you ought to think different. I say nothing about mine; but hers was all it ought to be under the circumstances.”
“You dare to say that? All it ought to be? Did you read it?”
“Yes, I did.”
“And thought it right for her to say I was ‘a godless beast’ where she was concerned?”
“She never said nothing like that, Mr. Dingle.”
“Come in then,” said the other shortly. “You come in and sit down and read what she said.”
They went into the kitchen, and Ned lighted a candle. Then he took out his pocket book, produced Medora’s letter, and flung it on the table.
“Read that, please.”
Kellock obeyed, and his face grew long. It was clear that Medora had not sent the letter they concocted so carefully together in the Priory ruin. He put it down.
“Was that the only letter you got from her, if I may ask?”