"Then, if I were you, I shouldn't."
"The Daily Screecher says that a correspondent has favoured them with an account of certain extraordinary occurrences which took place at Avonham on the night of the Easter ball. If the statement is true, and it seems to bear on it the hall-mark of truth, then it throws a very lurid light on the continued mysterious disappearance of Captain Noel Draycott. It goes on to say that searching and exhaustive inquiries are being made into the statement, the result of which will be published in an early issue. In the meantime it assures its readers that sensational, and even astounding, developments may shortly be expected. I suppose you are capable of telling me if you think that that communication was manufactured in the office?"
The major showed a disposition to fidget, on which the lady commented.
"It's no use your shuffling your feet, or looking down at your boots, or fingering your tie; everything is quite all right. Will you please tell me what you think?"
"It's difficult to say."
"That means that you think there is a bona fide correspondent and that the communication is genuine."
"I'll put it this way--it's a wonder to me that something hasn't peeped out already. You and I know that the facts that the papers have got are not the real ones; there are--how many persons?--goodness only knows!--who are in a position to supply them with something which is a great deal nearer the truth--the whole truth, that is."
"And you think that one of those persons has?"
"Who knows? So far what struck me most about the matter is, that in spite of the boasted argus eyes of the newspapers, how easy it is to keep things from them. Even the approximate truth of what took place at Avonham would make--if they knew it--the fortunes of half a dozen journalists; and in America they would have got it, long ago; it's possible that here they're going to get it now."
The girl's smile had again become wan and faint.