Jinnie sat up quickly. If her dear one had sent her a message, then he must know where she was.
“Then tell it,” was all she said.
Molly put her hand into a leather hand bag and drew forth a letter.
“It isn’t for you,” she stated, with glinting eyes. “I’ve known for a long time you thought he cared for you––”
“He does,” interjected Jinnie emphatically.
“I think not. Here’s a letter he wrote to me. It will dispel any idea you may have about his affection for you.”
“I don’t wish to read your letter,” said Jinnie proudly.
“Read it!” ordered Morse frowning, and because she feared him, Jinnie took the letter nervously. The woman’s words had shattered her last hope. For a moment the well-known handwriting whirled; then the words came clearly before her vision:
“My Darling,” she read.