"'The Greater Glory' was printed from my husband's original manuscript."
Wittekind smiled and shook his head. "No, my dear Mrs. Boldero. From two typed copies—one in England and one in America."
"Mr. Chayne told me that in order to save time he sent you Adrian's original manuscript with his revisions."
"I'm sure you must have misunderstood him," said Wittekind. "I read the typescript myself. I've never seen a line of your husband's manuscript."
"But 'The Diamond Gate' was printed from Adrian's manuscript."
"No, no, no. That, too, I read in type."
Doria rose and the colour fled from her cheeks and her great dark eyes grew bigger, and she brought down her little gloved hand on the writing desk by which the publisher, cross-kneed, was sitting. He rose, too.
"Mr. Chayne has definitely told me that both Adrian's original manuscripts went to the printers and were destroyed by the printers."
"It's impossible," said Wittekind, in much perplexity. "You're making some extraordinary mistake."
"I'm not. Mr. Chayne would not tell me a lie."