"If you would like the letter to-night—" Hunston went on.
"If it's no trouble," Jack replied, eagerly.
"None whatever. I must go back to the office, anyway."
Jack was impatient to start, and he no longer felt hungry. He ordered a light supper, however, and ate it hurriedly. He finished at the same time as Hunston, and they left the "Cheese" and plunged into the outer fog and crowds. A short walk brought them to the Universe building, which was just closing its doors to the public. Hunston turned up the gas in his office.
"Here you are," he said, taking a letter from a pigeon-hole over the desk.
Jack looked at it sharply, and disappointment banished hope. He scowled savagely, and an half-audible oath slipped from his lips. He had recognized Diane's peculiar penmanship. She was in London, contrary to promise, and had dared to write to him.
"Sit down," said Hunston. "Have a cigar?"
"No; I'm off," Jack answered dully, as he thrust the letter into his pocket unopened.
Hunston regarded him anxiously.
"Ill see you to-morrow?" he asked. "You know it's rather important, and I'll want one of the double pages by next Wednesday."