"No," said Jean in surprise. She took the letter, looked down at the address and opened it.
He saw a look of amazement and horror come to her face.
"Good God!" gasped Jean.
"What is it?" he said, springing up.
She stared at the letter again and from the letter to him.
"Read it," she said in a hollow voice.
"Dear Mademoiselle,
"I have returned from London and have confessed to Madame Meredith that I have forged her name and have drawn £100,000 from her bank. And now I have learnt that Madame Meredith loves me. There is only one end to this—that which you see——"
Jack read the letter twice.
"It is in his writing, too," he muttered. "It's impossible, incredible! I tell you I've had Mrs. Meredith under my eyes all the time she has been here. Is there a letter from her?" he asked suddenly. "But no, it is impossible, impossible!"