She rose and faced him, her breast heaving.
"Blackmail! My father——"
He bowed his head.
"Unfortunately it's the truth. He spoke to me of it in the hospital—thinking I was Harry——"
She raised the letter again and read.
"I can't believe—I can't——," but her words trailed off into silence as she read again the damning phrases.
His heart was full of tenderness and pity for her and he caught her by the hand. "Moira, dear," he murmured, "I wouldn't have spoken of this—but you are involved—I couldn't understand for a long while. They're using you as a cat's-paw—a snare—a stool-pigeon. Perhaps you don't even know the meaning of the words—it's too hideous!"
"Using me?" She seemed unaware of her fingers still in his. "How can they use me? I know nothing whatever of this affair."
He led her to her chair again and made her sit. "Listen," he said gently, "and I will tell you all that I've found out about it——"
"I can't believe—Who has told you?"