The Doctor seemed greatly excited by her words. But he controlled himself swiftly.
“Why did you do such a thing?”
“Oh, I’ll explain that later,” said Dale tiredly, only too glad to be talking the matter out at last, to pay attention to the logic of her sentences. “It’s not safe where it is,” she went on, as if the Doctor already knew the whole story. “Billy may throw it out or burn it without knowing—”
“Let me understand this,” said the Doctor. “The butler has the paper now?”
“He doesn’t know he has it. It was in one of the rolls that went out on the tray.”
The Doctor’s eyes gleamed. He gave Dale’s shoulder a sympathetic pat.
“Now don’t you worry about it—I’ll get it,” he said. Then, on the point of going toward the dining-room, he turned.
“But—you oughtn’t to have it in your possession,” he said thoughtfully. “Why not let it be burned?”
Dale was on the defensive at once.
“Oh, no! It’s important, it’s vital!” she said decidedly.