"Who?" the woman stammered.
"That's for you to find out. Why not ask Mr. Lyttleton? It's no good, Mrs. Standish. I don't understand your motive, and I'd rather not guess at it; but I'm not a child to be scared by a bogy. Show your forged letter to Mrs. Gosnold, if you like--or come with me and we'll both show it to her--"
"Are you mad'? Do you want to be exposed?"
"I'm not afraid, Mrs. Standish--and you are!"
After an instant the woman's eyes clouded and fell. "I don't know what you mean," she faltered.
"I mean that this scene has gone on long enough. I'm sick and tired of it--and it isn't getting you anything, either. Good night!"
With this Sally marched to the door, turned the knob, and found it locked and the key missing.
"The key, please, Mrs. Standish."
"Not till you tell me--" the other began with a flash of reviving spirit.
Sally advanced a finger toward the push-button. "Must I call one of the maids to let me out?"