Here his landlady met
him with the announcement that only a few hours ago she had
forwarded a letter delivered by the post this morning. This was
vexatious; several days must elapse before he could have the letter
back again from St. Jean de Luz. Sure that Mrs. Wick must have
closely scrutinised the envelope, he questioned her as to
handwriting and postmark, but the woman declared that she had given
not a glance to these things, which were not her business. Couldn't
she even remember whether the writing looked masculine or feminine?
No; she had not the slightest idea; it was not her business to "pry"
and Mrs. Wick closed her bloodless lips with virtuous severity.
He had tea and walked back again to the shop, w ere as he girt
himself with his apron, he chuckled contentedly.
"Has Mrs. Cross looked in?" he inquired.
"Yes, sir," answered his henchman, "she was here day before yes'day,
and asked where you was. I said you was travelling for your health
in foreign parts."
"And what did she say to that?"
"She said 'Oh'--that's all, sir. It was a very small order she
gave. I can't make out how she manages to use so little sugar in her
'ouse. It's certain the servant doesn't have her tea too sweet--
what do _you_ think, sir?"
Warburton spoke of something else.
At nine o'clock he sat at home awaiting his visitor. The expected
knock soon sounded and Sherwood was shown into the room. Will
grasped his hand, calling out: "What news?
"News?" echoed Godfrey, in a voice of no good omen.
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