“Really—er—really——” he spluttered, for once too bewildered to grin.
“Please tell Mr. Baumgartner what happened in the hall at Lochmerig when Mrs. Laing asked the postman to give her a letter addressed to Captain Arthur Warden, at Ostend. You were present. It was my letter she obtained. Perhaps she has it yet if her boxes were searched.”
Here was no timid girl striving vainly to bolster up a false accusation, but a fiery young goddess impeaching an erring mortal. The atmosphere was electrical; Beryl Baumgartner said afterwards that she felt pins and needles attacking her at all points!
“I’m awfully sorry, Miss Dane, but I gave very little attention to the incident,” said Fairholme, partly recovering himself.
“But you remembered Captain Warden’s name last night? Was it not at Lochmerig that you heard it, and from Mrs. Laing?”
“Well—yes, but, you know, Mrs. Laing might have written to him.”
“She did, after obtaining the address from my letter and reading what I wrote.”
Then she turned on Rosamund with magnificent disdain.
“Shall I give you a copy of your letter? Captain Warden has sent it to me.”