“Quite so,” acquiesced Mr Carlyle, writing.
“‘The bearer of this is Mr Carrados, of whom I have spoken to you.’
“You have spoken of me to her, I trust, Louis?” he put in.
“I believe that I have casually referred to you,” admitted the writer.
“I felt sure you would have done. It makes the rest easier.
“‘He is not in the least mad although he frequently does things which to the uninitiated appear more or less eccentric at the moment. I think that you would be quite safe in complying with any suggestion he may make.
“‘Your affectionate uncle,
“‘Louis Carlyle.’”
He accepted the envelope and put it away in a pocket-book that always seemed extraordinarily thin for the amount of papers it contained.
“I may call there to-morrow,” he added.