"Nothing."
"Then why do you want me to write?"
"I have never seen your handwriting. I'm something of an expert in that line. I'll read your future."
"But I don't want my future read," rebelliously.
"Well, then, your past."
"Much less my past. Come; you are only beating about the bush. What is it you want?"
"I want to know," he said quietly, "why you have kept me in ignorance all this while." He laid the letter on the desk, and placed a finger on the water-mark. "It wasn't fair to let me compose panegyrics over it all the while you were laughing in your sleeve. Ah, I've caught you. You can't get away this time, Patty."
"I haven't the slightest idea what you are talking about." But she looked at the letter and not at him.
"Do you see those water-marks?" he demanded.
"Yes. You will find them in a thousand tablets like this. I bought a dozen of them in New York; cheap and handy."