“Who redirected that letter?” he exclaimed.
Max smoked for a few moments in thoughtful silence, then, casting off all affectation, he said quietly:
“Would it not be better to change the subject, Vining? It is not every horse that wins. The favourite is a dangerous nag to place your money on, as you must know. We are old friends, Vining, and I am sorry to run counter to you. Say what you will, I shall not quarrel.”
“Who redirected that letter?” repeated Charley, again more fiercely.
“Bai Jove, Vining, this is going too far!” said Max in injured tones. “You have no right to come to a gentleman and ask him such questions.”
“Who redirected that letter?” Charley cried for the third time.
“Well there, then, if you will have it—I did,” said Max quietly.
“And any others?”
“Yes, all of them.”
“And by whose authority?”