"Nora said you sent this letter to me—it's for Bernal——"
He answered, still without looking up,
"I thought he might be with you, or that you might know where he was."
"I don't."
He knew that she studied the superscription of the envelope.
"Well, leave it here on my desk till he comes. I sent it to you only because I heard him inquiring if a letter had not come for him—he seemed rather anxious about some letter—troubled, in fact—doubtless some business affair. I hoped this might be what he was expecting."
His eyes were still on the page before him, and he crossed out a word and wrote another above it, after a meditative pause. Still the woman at the door hesitated.
"Did you chance to notice the address on the envelope?"
He glanced at her now for the first time, apparently in some surprise: "No—it is not my custom to study addresses of letters not my own. Nora said it was for Bernal and he had seemed really distressed about some letter or message that didn't come—if you will leave it here——"
"I wish to hand it to him myself."