"Of course he'll deny it!" Cherry interrupted, from the bitter knowledge she had of him.
Alix again felt daunted for a second by the sheer ugliness and sordidness of the matter, but she returned to the charge bravely.
"Suppose we get Peter to ask him," she suggested suddenly. "Peter has a wonderful way of getting the truth out of people! Poor Cherry, the very mention of his name makes her wince," Alix thought, watching her sister sorrowfully. "If Martin can convince Peter that it is not true, then that makes all the difference in the world," she added, aloud. "Then you tell Martin frankly that you have the old house ready to live in, and you want to live there. He--"
"He'll never agree to that!" Cherry said, shaking her head. "But if this is true?" she asked, again indicating the letter.
"Then tell him that unless he agrees absolutely to a separation," Alix said, "that you will get a divorce!"
"And live here, alone, under that sort of a cloud?" Cherry said, with watering eyes. "Oh, well!" she said, rising, and going toward the door. "It's horrible--horrible--horrible--whatever I do! What is your idea--that we should dine, and go to the Orpheum tonight as if nothing had happened, and let all this wait until you can ask Peter to cross-examine Martin?"
"I wonder if Martin would tell ME?" Alix mused.
"He'd tell you sooner than Peter!" Cherry prophesied.
"Why couldn't I pretend that I opened that letter by mistake," Alix said, thoughtfully, "and frighten him into admitting it, if it's true!"
"You could," Cherry admitted, lifelessly. "But you may be sure it is true enough!" she added.