That was all there was; nothing at the top or the bottom. Mrs. May turned this over with a puzzled face and a hand that shook slightly. Under her smile was another expression, the look of one who has been betrayed and is in a position to lay her hand upon the guilty person.
"You are fortunate to have friends with the enemy," she said. "But do you think you were wise to show this to me?"
She was playing with him as the cat plays with the mouse. It was a temptation she could not resist, feeling sure that Geoffrey would not understand. But he did, though he did not show it on his face.
"Why not?" he asked innocently. "Are you not my friend? Personally I believe it is a hoax to frighten me. You can keep that paper if you please."
"Then you are not going to take any notice of the warning?" asked Mrs. May.
There was a note of curiosity, sharp, eager curiosity, in the question. Geoffrey did not fail to notice it, though he shook his head carelessly.
"I am going to ignore it, as one should ignore all anonymous letters," he said. "If the writer of that letter thinks to frighten me, then he or she is sadly mistaken. I shall go on with my life as if I had never received it."
Mrs. May's lips framed the sentence, "The more fool you," but she did not utter it. It filled her with satisfaction to find that the warning had been ignored, as it had filled her with anger to know that a warning had been received. And Mrs. May knew full well who was the author of that letter.
"I don't think that I should ignore it," she said. "It may be a cruel piece of mischief; and, on the other hand, it may be dictated by a generous desire to help you. So the moral is that you are to keep clear of the cliffs and the sea."