‘Don’t you think it would be as well if you looked at the letter before you proceed further?’ was Mrs Joseph’s cold interruption. ‘I wish to know if this was written by you; and if it was, I shall understand how to proceed.’
The Major held out his hand for the letter; but Mrs Joseph laid it on her desk and held it down, as if unwilling to trust it out of her hand. He glanced at the paper and groaned. It was not necessary to read more than the first words. As he had expected, the letters had somehow got into the wrong envelopes.
‘Yes, this was written by me, but it was not intended for you.’
‘Of course not,’ she exclaimed with a slight hysterical laugh.
‘I really do wish you would allow me to explain: there is a mistake—a cruel blunder’——
‘I shall seek my husband and ask him to explain.’
‘For heaven’s sake, don’t. He has nothing whatever to do with it. If you would allow me’——
‘But I shall not allow you, Major Dawkins, to say another word. You, having made this mistake, wish to screen your friend. But that will not do for me. Whatever you may have to say must be spoken in his presence.’
‘If you would only allow me’——
She bowed contemptuously, and passed out of the room, leaving the Major standing with eyes and mouth wide open in hopeless bewilderment. He clasped his brow, stared at the door and at the desk where the letter had lain.