“For Miss Trevert?”
Robin gathered up the plain white envelope. It bore a Dutch stamp. The postmark was Rotterdam. He gave the letter to Mary. It was bulky and heavy.
“For you,” he said, and stood beside her while she broke the seal. By this they had all gathered round her.
The envelope fluttered to the floor. Mary was unfolding a wad of sheets of writing-paper folded once across. She glanced at the topmost sheet, then handed the bundle to Robin.
“It’s a confession!” she said.
From beyond the grave the little secretary had spoken and spoiled Mr. Manderton’s dénouement.
CHAPTER XXVIII.
THE DEATH OF HARTLEY PARRISH
“For Miss Trevert.”
Thus, in Jeekes’s round and flowing commercial hand, the document began:
Last Statement of Albert Edward Jeekes, made at Rotterdam, this twenty-first Day of January, in the Year of Our Lord One Thousand Nine Hundred and...