He took a Gillette razor blade from his drawer, and inserting it beneath the gummed flap, worked it this way and that. In a moment the envelope was open, and he drew out a letter and cautiously unfolded it. It also was written by Mr. Duke, and read:
“My Dearest Sylvia,
“When you receive this you will have heard what I am about to do. My dear, I will not try to justify myself; I suppose I should be brave and fight to the end. But I just couldn’t bear the ruin and disgrace which face me. Even before the robbery things were not going too well. As you know, the war hit businesses like mine worse than most. Now, even if the insurance company paid, I shouldn’t get clear; I should still be many thousands in debt. Sylvia, don’t think too hardly of me, but I couldn’t face it. Loss of position, friends, home, everything—and at my time of life. I just couldn’t.
“But chiefly I couldn’t bear dragging you down with me. You will be free from that now. Your mother’s jointure cannot be touched; it is hers—and yours. You will see that all expenses for her are paid, and the remainder will be yours. Of course the house must go, but you will have enough to live on. You will marry; I trust soon. Remember that it is my last wish and my last charge to you that you marry the man of your choice as soon as may be convenient. Though we have not always seen eye to eye, you have been a good daughter to me.
“Dear Sylvia, try not to take this too much to heart. I face the future, if there is one, without misgivings. Though the way I take may be the coward’s way, it is the easiest and the best way for us all.
“Good-bye, my dearest girl, and if there be a God, may He bless you.
“Your devoted father,
“R. A. Duke.”
Inspector French had a slight feeling of shame as he refolded this unhappy epistle and, working deftly and mechanically, regummed the flap of the envelope and stuck it down. He was disappointed to find that the letter contained no helpful information, and with a sigh he set out to bear his news to Hampstead.
Miss Duke and Harrington were anxiously awaiting him, and he handed the former both the report and the letter, saying he would wait if she cared to read them in another room. She remained calm and collected, but the pallor of her face and dark rings beneath her eyes indicated the tension under which she was labouring. She withdrew with a word of apology, Harrington accompanying her, and French sat thinking, wondering if a direct question, unexpectedly sprung upon them, might surprise one or other into some unguarded admission which would give him a hint of the secret which he believed they held.