“Did she speak of it at Dieppe, by any chance?” he asked me.
“Not a word,” said I.
“General Fordibras would have let it slip?”
“Nothing of the kind.”
“Then, how the blazes——?”
“Timothy,” I said, “when we dined with Joan Fordibras at Dieppe, her chaperone, the elderly but engaging Miss Aston, carried a letter in her hand.”
“Indade, and she did.”
“I saw the stamp upon it, Timothy.”
He raised his eyes to heaven.
“God save all wicked men from Ean Fabos,” he exclaimed.