In the coffee-room of the Avon Hotel he sat down to write a long letter to Elaine which would explain all that had been hidden from her. Without sparing himself one jot he told her of the circumstances of his life since the crucial night of March 14th, and of the deception he carried out with her as well as with the rest of the world. It was long past midnight before he put to the letter the signature of "Clifford Matheson."
And then with a stab of pain he remembered that Elaine could not read it. There were passages in the letter which must not be read to her by any outside person. It was evident that what he had to tell her would have to be said by word of mouth.
Rivière tore up his letter into small fragments and burnt them carefully in the grate.
CHAPTER XIX
A THRONE-ROOM
Dinner was over at Thornton Chase, and the three were back in the drawing-room—Olive, Larssen, and Sir Francis. The men smoked at Olive's request; and she herself lighted one of a special brand of cigarettes which she had made for her by Antonides.
"I hate to have my drawing-room smelling of afternoon-tea and feminine chit-chat," she explained. "The two Carleton-Wingate frumps called on me this afternoon for a couple of solid hours' boring, which they dignify to themselves as a duty call. Please smoke away the remembrance of them."
"The Carleton-Wingates are a useful crowd," said Larssen. "There's an M.P., a major-general and a minister plenipotentiary amongst them."
"Give me those to deal with, and you entertain the twin frumps," answered Olive. "Twins are always hateful in a room, because they sit together and chorus their comments together, just as if they were one mind with two bodies. You feel as if you ought to split yourself in two and devote half to each, so as not to cause jealousy. But twin old maids are especially hateful."
"A very old family," was Letchmere's comment. "They go back to Henry VII."