"Certainly not, Matthew. It is not much that you ask me to do."
"But it means a great deal."
"How little men understand about us women!" thought Olive. "None of my own sex, who knew the circumstances of the case, would ever have dreamed of asking me to do what Matthew has asked me to do, and believes I will do."
"Think what a revelation my letter will be!" continued the lawyer. "At one fell blow she will be robbed of name, wealth, and position. Think, and pity her."
He lay back, exhausted by the exertion of having spoken so much.
"What can I give you?" asked Olive. "Will you not have your arrowroot?"
"No: I will take that later on. A little weak brandy-and-water is all I need at present."
"And now I must bid you good night," said Olive, as soon as he had revived a little.
He put the letter into her hand, and as he did so he drew her towards him and kissed her. "I should like you to start about ten in the morning," he said. She promised to be ready by that time, and then she went.
"Whitaker's suspicion is nothing but a horrible nightmare," he said to himself, as Olive left the room. "He is wrong--utterly wrong." But for all that, Matthew Kelvin hardly slept a wink all night.