Hamilton Beamish laid a hand upon his arm.
"George," he said, "I want you to give me your full attention: for we have arrived now at the very core of the matter. Were there any letters?"
"Dozens. And of course she has kept them. She used to sleep with them under her pillow."
"Bad!" said Hamilton Beamish, shaking his head. "Very bad!"
"And I remember her saying once that she believed in breach of promise suits."
Hamilton Beamish frowned. He seemed to be deploring the get-rich-quick spirit of the modern girl, who is not content to sit down and wait for her alimony.
"You think it certain that she is coming here with the intention of making trouble?"
"What other reason could she have?"
"Yes, I fancy you are right. I must think. I must think. Let me think."
And, so saying, Hamilton Beamish turned sharply to the left and began to walk slowly round in a circle, his hands behind his back and his face bent and thoughtful. His eyes searched the ground as if to wrest inspiration from it.