“I must see you again just this once more to say goodbye. You owe me that. As soon as it is safe. I shall be waiting. I must see you just once more. Burn this.”
After a pause he said,
“Well, well, are you prepared to place any particular construction on this letter—I suppose we’ve got to call it a letter?”
Miss Silver took this temperately.
“I should prefer to hear your own construction.”
With the remark that Henry was certainly a bit of a lad, Frank Abbott went back to his seat. March, conscious of anger and desirous of concealing it, looked hard at the paper and laid it down.
“It has neither address nor signature, the writing is disguised, and it bears no date. If Henry Clayton habitually occupied that room, there is some presumption that it had been sent to him, and that he tried
