"I told him all about it. It was he who took it to a publisher."
"Hound!" said Ashe, between his teeth. "So that was his revenge."
"Oh, you needn't blame him too much," said Kitty, proudly, not understanding the remark. "He wrote to me not long ago to say it was horribly unwise—and that he washed his hands of it."
"Ay—when he'd done the deed! When did you show it him?" said Ashe, impetuously.
"At Haggart—in August."
"Et tu, Brute!" said Ashe, turning away. "Well, that's done with. Now the only thing to do is to face the music. I go home. Whatever can be done to withdraw the book from circulation I shall, of course, do; but I gather from this precious letter"—he held up the note which had been enclosed in the parcel—"that some thousands of copies have already been ordered by the booksellers, and a few distributed to 'persons in high places.'"
"William," she said, in despair, catching his arm again—"listen! I offered the man two hundred pounds only yesterday to stop it."
Ashe laughed.
"What did he reply?"
"He said it was impossible. Fifty copies had been already issued."