"You went to the office? And you saw Minnie's letter?"
"I——it's no use scolding me, or pretending to be injured. I know who is injured of us two."
"I suppose I must have left the note lying open on the table of my office," said Algernon, speaking very distinctly, and not looking at his wife.
"Yes; that must be it! I——I——I tore it up. You will find the fragments on the floor if you think them worth preserving."
"What a goose you are, Castalia!" exclaimed her husband, leaning back in the carriage and closing his eyes.
Now, the fact was that Algernon distinctly remembered having placed Minnie's note in a drawer of a little secretaire which he kept habitually locked, and of which the key was at that moment in his waistcoat pocket. And the discovery that his wife had in some way or other obtained access to the said secretaire gave him, for reasons known only to himself, abundant food for conjecture and reflection during the rest of the drive home.