“I wrote a very cooling letter, but it didn’t work. He was worse than ever; he said he knew I was beautiful and young; that he loved me madly—wanted to ask Wally for my hand in marriage, and a lot of stuff like that.”
“And you accepted him?—this man you’ve never seen?”
“Of course I didn’t accept him. I told him that I was old; that I didn’t love him; that Wally was dead, so he couldn’t address him; and that that was my last letter.”
Again Wally laughed.
“But Isabelle, why didn’t you tell me something of all this?” begged Miss Watts.
“Why should I boast of doing my bit?”
“Rubbish!” exploded her mother. “You’ve got yourself into a nice scrape. How do we know what she said in these letters?” she asked Wally.
“But I’ve told you what I said.”
“You didn’t keep copies of them, did you?” asked Wally.
“No, of course not.”