"Here's a letter from him here," declared Mavis, as she tore it open to glance at its contents before passing it on to Hutton.
But the glance hardened into a look of deadly seriousness as her eyes fell on what was written. She re-read the letter two or three times before she grasped its import.
"Dear Miss Keeves," it ran, "it is with the very deepest regret that I write to say that certain facts have come to my knowledge with regard to the way in which you spent your holiday last year at Polperro. I, also, gather that your sudden departure from Melkbridge was in connection with this visit. As a strict moral rectitude is a sine qua non amongst those I employ, I must ask you to be good enough to resign your appointment. I enclose cheque for present and next week's salary.—Truly yours,
"MONTAGUE S.T. DEVITT."
The faces about her faded from her view; the room seemed as if it were going round.
"What's the matter, ma'am?" asked Mrs Trivett anxiously.
"I can't give the guarantee," gasped Mavis.
Mr Hutton rose and buttoned his coat.
"What about Germany?" put in Mrs Trivett.
"I'd forgotten that," said Mavis. "I'll write a telegram at once."