He took the letter from his pocket.
"This came into my possession the night we were at Taloona," he said slowly. "I should have returned it to you at once, but it slipped my memory until after you had gone. Then, accidentally, unthinkingly, I came to read it. I—I wish to hear what you have to say about it. I wish to know——" The sentences he had so carefully thought out fled from his brain before the calm, steadfast look with which she was regarding him. "Do you recognise it?" he asked abruptly.
He held out the cover to her, turning it over so that she could see both sides.
"It is one of the Bank envelopes; I don't recognise anything else," she replied.
Taking the letter from the cover, he spread it open and held it out.
"Now do you know it?"
"Charlie's writing!"
Her eyes, after one rapid glance at it, were raised to his.
"You recognise it?"
"I recognise the writing, yes. It is his. Do you wish me to read it?"