“Good evening. Oh, by the way, I have an appointment with Constance to rehearse a little scene together this evening. Would you mind loaning me that letter?”
“With pleasure; but remember your promise.”
“Promise?” repeated the young woman.
“Not to tell.”
“Oh, of course,” said Susan.
“But if you shouldn’t––”
“Then?”
“Then you might say the marquis, your friend and 321 admirer, gave you the letter. It would, perhaps, be easier for you to account for it than for me.”
“But if the marquis should learn––” began the other, half-dubiously.
“He is too ill for anything except the grave.”