“How can you do that?” he inquired, in the greatest perplexity. “Her brother (hang him!) is much better. She had another letter from Zurich to say so, this morning.”
“Did you see the letter?”
“Yes. She always worries about her brother—she would show it to me.”
“Who was it from? and what did it say?”
“It was from the doctor—he always writes to her. I don’t care two straws about her brother, and I don’t remember much of the letter, except that it was a short one. The fellow was much better; and if the doctor didn’t write again, she might take it for granted that he was getting well. That was the substance of it.”
“Did you notice where she put the letter when you gave it her back again?”
“Yes. She put it in the drawer where she keeps her account-books.”
“Can you get at that drawer?”
“Of course I can. I have got a duplicate key—I always insist on a duplicate key of the place where she keeps her account books. I never allow the account-books to be locked up from my inspection: it’s a rule of the house.”
“Be so good as to get that letter to-day, Mr. Vanstone, without your housekeeper’s knowledge, and add to the favor by letting me have it here privately for an hour or two.”