“I should have thought you would,” suggested T. X., “because you see, you burnt the envelope, and I presumed you would have noticed that.”
“I have no recollection of burning any envelope,” said the other easily.
“At any rate,” T. X. went on, “when Mr. Lexman read this letter out to you...”
“To which letter are you referring?” asked the other, with a lift of his eyebrows.
“Mr. Lexman received a threatening letter,” repeated T. X. patiently, “which he read out to you, and which was addressed to him by Vassalaro. This letter was handed to you and you also read it. Mr. Lexman to your knowledge put the letter in his safe—in a steel drawer.”
The other shook his head, smiling gently.
“I am afraid you've made a great mistake,” he said almost apologetically, “though I have a recollection of his receiving a letter, I did not read it, nor was it read to me.”
The eyes of T. X. narrowed to the very slits and his voice became metallic and hard.
“And if I put you into the box, will you swear, that you did not see that letter, nor read it, nor have it read to you, and that you have no knowledge whatever of such a letter having been received by Mr. Lexman?”
“Most certainly,” said the other coolly.