“But his letters––” Marie Louise pleaded, her fears racing ahead of her questions.
“I was always a hand at forgery, but I thought best to turn it to the aid of me country. I’m proud if you liked me work. The last ones were not up to the mark. I was hurried, and Nicky was ugly. He refused to answer any more questions. I had to do it all on me own. Ahfterwards I found I had made a few mistakes.”
When Marie Louise realized that this man had been calmly taking the letters addressed to Nicky and answering them in his feigned script to elicit further information from Sir Joseph and enmesh him further, she dropped her hands at her sides, feeling not only convicted of crime, but of imbecility as well.
Sir Joseph and Lady Webling spread their hands and drew up their shoulders in surrender and gave up hope of bluff.
Verrinder wanted to be merciful and avoid any more climaxes.
“You see it’s all up, Sir Joseph, don’t you?” he said.
Sir Joseph drew himself again as high as he could, though the burden of his flesh kept pulling him down. He did not answer.
“Come now, Sir Joseph, be a sport.”
“The Englishman’s releechion,” sneered Sir Joseph, “to be ein Sportmann.”