She perceived that she had completely failed in her intention.
“What are you going to do with it?” he inquired, with an easy assumption of friendliness calculated to put her more completely at her ease with him.
“I don’t know. For the present, I shall put it back in my desk.”
“Better take my advice and destroy it,” he persisted. “It—er—is not valuable evidence. Or—I believe on second thought I shall accept your suggestion and return it myself to its probable owner.”
He was actually laughing, his eyes brimming with boyish mischief.
“I think it belongs to Miss Dix,” he told her audaciously.
“To Miss Dix?” she echoed.
“Yes; why not? Don’t you see the fair Ellen among the group?”
Her eyes blazed suddenly upon him; her lips trembled.
“Forgive me!” he cried, aghast at his own folly.