“Then you have not seen him?”
“Not yet.”
“Then how, madame, do you know that he desires my presence?”
Peggy glanced at the girl’s hands clasped on her lap, and saw that the knuckles were white.
“I am sure of it.”
“He would have written, madame. I only received one letter from him, and that was while I still lived at Frélus.”
“He wrote many letters and telegraphed to Frélus, and received no answers.”
“Madame,” cried Jeanne, “I implore you to believe what I say: but not one of those letters have ever reached me.”
“Not one?”
At first Peggy was incredulous. Phineas McPhail had told her of Doggie’s despair at the lack of response from Frélus; and, after all, Frélus had a properly constituted post office in working order, which might be expected to forward letters. She had therefore come prepared to reproach the girl. But …