"I cannot say."
"Some of my letters, to Sir Ralph and others, are missing, and I think they must have got amongst the papers by mistake. Will you look?"
"I will take an early opportunity of doing so."
"Oh, but I mean now. I want them. Why cannot you search now?"
I did not tell her why. In the first place, most of the Clavering papers were in the room where Mr. Brightman was lying—and there were other reasons also.
"I cannot spare the time, Lady Clavering: I have an appointment out of doors which I must keep. I will search for you in a day or two. But should any letters of yours be here—of which I assure you I am ignorant—you will pardon my intimating that it may not be expedient to give them up."
"What do you mean? Why not?"
"Should they bear at all upon the cause at issue between you and Sir Edmund Clavering——"
"But they don't," she interrupted.
"Then, if they do not, I shall be happy to enclose them to you."