Hash’s fingers kneaded the envelope restlessly.
“What you writing to him about?”
“Never mind.”
“There’s something else inside this ’ere envelope besides a letter. There’s something that sort of crinkles when you squeeze it.”
“Just a little present I promised to give him.”
A monstrous suspicion flamed in Hash Todhunter’s mind. It seemed inconceivable, and yet—— He tore open the envelope and found his suspicion fulfilled. Between his fingers there dangled a lock of tow-coloured hair.
“When you’ve finished opening other people’s letters——” said Claire.
She looked at him, hopefully at first, and then with a growing despair. For Hash’s face was wooden and expressionless.
“I’m glad,” said Hash huskily at length. “I been worried, but now I’m not worried. I been worried because I been worrying about you and me not being suited to one another and ’aving acted ’asty; but now I’m not worried, because I see there’s another feller you’re fond of, so the worry about what was to be done and everything don’t worry me no more. He’s in the kitchen,” said Hash in a gentle rumble. “I’ll give him this and explain ’ow it come to be opened in error.”
Nothing could have exceeded the dignity of his manner, but there are moments when women chafe at masculine dignity.