"If you have not already done so."
She took the letter from him. As she read the first sentence she raised her eyes, filled with piteous anguish, to his.
"Oh, Fred!" she exclaimed. "Oh, what is this? Where did you get it?"
Without waiting for an answer she looked at it again. Her face went as white as the paper, a violent fit of trembling seized her, and she sank to her knees beside the table, burying her head on her arms.
"Oh, Fred! Fred! Why—why did you let me see it?" she moaned.
"Is it not yours?" he asked in a hoarse whisper.
"Mine?"
She was on her feet, facing him, with eyes that blazed through the tears which filled them.
"You believed that? You believed I had this when—that I had read it when we were at Taloona? You believed that?"
"It was given to me by one of the troopers, who picked it up where you had been kneeling when you attended to Durham's wound. The man said it was either yours or mine. I knew it was not mine, so I took it to give it to you. I should have given it at once, but I forgot it at the moment. When I read it——"