'Angela, where are you?'
'I'm here. And I'd like to know why you are, after that letter I wrote you. Some men,' continued the strangely cold voice, 'do not seem to know how to take a hint.'
Wilfred staggered, and would have fallen had he not clutched at his forehead.
'That letter?' he stammered. 'You surely didn't mean what you wrote in that letter?'
'I meant every word and I wish I had put in more.'
'But—but—but—But don't you love me, Angela?'
A hard, mocking laugh rang through the room.
'Love you? Love the man who recommended me to try Mulliner's Raven Gipsy Face-Cream!'
'What do you mean?'
'I will tell you what I mean. Wilfred Mulliner, look on your handiwork!'