“I will go upstairs and fetch it,” said Mrs. Martin, who knew well that it was safe in her pocket all the time.
James Martin roused himself and gave her a studied look.
“Do so,” he said. “Bring it back to me at once. If I have to support that girl, and keep her at school, and pay for her clothing, I’ll allow her to have no secrets from me. You understand that, don’t you, Little-sing?”
“Yes. I will fetch the letter,” said Mrs. Martin.
She left the room. Martin was fond of her, but he was no fool. He was certain now that there was something in the letter which his wife did not wish him to see, and his curiosity was instantly aroused. He was determined to read poor Maggie’s letter at any cost. He waited impatiently, drumming his large, fat hand on the highly polished oak table the while. Tildy came in with fresh coffee.
“Please, sir,” she said, “cook wants to see you for a minute.”
“I can’t see her now. Tell her so,” replied Martin.
“Which is no message for a woman of my class,” said Horniman, entering the room and showing a very heated face. “I wishes to give notice that I leave your service this day month.”
“You can go to-morrow,” said Martin.
“As you please, sir; wages in full.”