"May I interrupt you a moment, Mr. Vaux?"
Then he glanced up.
"Surely, surely," he said. "Hum—hum!—please be seated, Miss Erith!
Hum! Surely!"
She laid the sheets of the letter and the yellow envelope upon the desk before him and seated herself in a chair at his elbow. She was VERY pretty. But engaged men never notice such details.
"I'm afraid we are in trouble," she remarked.
He read placidly the various memoranda written on the yellow slips of paper, scrutinised! the cancelled stamps, postmarks, superscription. But when his gaze fell upon the body of the letter his complacent expression altered to one of disgust!
"What's this, Miss Erith?"
"Code-cipher, I'm afraid."
"The deuce!"
Miss Erith smiled. She was one of those girls who always look as though they had not been long out of a bathtub. She had hazel eyes, a winsome smile, and hair like warm gold. Her figure was youthfully straight and supple—But that would not interest an engaged man.