"Dear Jaff Chayne,
"As you are my Trustee, I guess I ought to tell you what I'm going to do. I'm going to marry Ras Fendihook—"
I looked up. "But you told me the man was married already."
"He is. Read on."
"We are going to be married at once. We are going to be married at Havre in France. Ras says that because I am a widow and an Albanian it would be an awful trouble for me to get married in England, and I would have to give up half my money to Government. But in France, owing to different laws, I can get married without any fuss at all. I don't understand it, but Ras has consulted a lawyer, so it's all right. I suppose when I am married you won't be my trustee any more. So, dear Jaff Chayne, I must say good-bye and thank you for all your great kindness to me. I am sorry you and Barbara and Hilary don't like Ras, which his real name really is Erasmus, but you will when you know him better.
"Yours affectionately,
"LIOSHA PRESCOTT."
The amazing epistle took my breath away.
"Of all the infernal scoundrels!" I cried.
"There's going to be trouble," said Jaffery, and his look signified that it was he who intended to cause it.