CHAPTER VIHe made no haste to follow her. He had given her plenty to think about. Let it sink in and it would do the trick all right. He thought she would go to almost any possible length rather than allow her sister’s letters to be published. There were plenty of people who would remember Irene’s beauty, and her sudden tragic death. These people were Adela’s friends—and enemies. She was of the type that makes enemies. The story of an attack of cramp while swimming out too far would be blown sky high. That final letter would finish it—“We can’t go on like this. I am taking the only way out. I can’t go on living without you.” That must have been written on the very day she was drowned. A newspaper cutting was folded inside the envelope, and a photograph of the Penderel Field portrait. A lov
