The examination proceeded uninterruptedly until it had reached that point in the progress of events at which Anne had crushed Geoffrey Delamayn’s letter in her hand, and had thrown it from her indignantly to the other end of the room. There, for the first time, Sir Patrick dipped his pen in the ink, apparently intending to take a note. “Be very careful here,” he said; “I want to know every thing that you can tell me about that letter.”
“The letter is lost,” said Arnold.
“The letter has been stolen by Bishopriggs,” returned Sir Patrick, “and is in the possession of Bishopriggs at this moment.”
“Why, you know more about it than I do!” exclaimed Arnold.
“I sincerely hope not. I don’t know what was inside the letter. Do you?”
“Yes. Part of it at least.”
“Part of it?”
“There were two letters written, on the same sheet of paper,” said Arnold. “One of them was written by Geoffrey Delamayn—and that is the one I know about.”
Sir Patrick started. His face brightened; he made a hasty note. “Go on,” he said, eagerly. “How came the letters to be written on the same sheet? Explain that!”
Arnold explained that Geoffrey, in the absence of any thing else to write his excuses on to Anne, had written to her on the fourth or blank page of a letter which had been addressed to him by Anne herself.