I hesitated a moment and then I took from my pocket the second letter of warning.
“Look, Doctor,” I said, “I’ve received this. What do you think of it?”
As he read it I watched him closely. It was evident he was keenly interested. It struck me, too, that he was unmistakably surprised and my suspicion that he might have been the writer faded instantly.
“I wonder who could have sent you that?” he exclaimed. “Somebody who is jealous of your attentions to little Mrs. Audley.”
His eyes met mine, and I thought I saw a curious look of mystery in them.
“I thought it possible that you might have been the sender,” I said, with a laugh.
“Me!” he replied, starting. “Whatever causes you to suspect that? Ah!” he added a second later. “I notice the postmark is that of Hammersmith—just across the bridge! No, my dear boy, I assure you that I am not the sender.”
By his manner it was plain that he was telling the truth.
“I remember your many warnings, Doctor. That is why I suspected,” I said apologetically.
“Well, I hope you don’t believe that I’m guilty of sending you such silly nonsense. Personally, if I received such a letter I should take no notice of it. You’re not alarmed, surely? It’s only some silly joke, perpetrated, perhaps, by one of Audley’s mysterious and undesirable associates.”