"Sir Richard, why do you and Dr. Anstice look at one another?" She put the question directly, with her usual frankness; and Sir Richard met candour with candour.

"I will tell you in a moment, Chloe. First of all, I will admit that our visit here to-night was made with a purpose. We came here to ask you one or two questions which I feel sure you will answer as fully as possible."

"Certainly I will." Her manner had lost its animation and once more she wore the marble mask which as a rule hid the real woman from the world's gaze. "But won't you sit down? And if a cigarette will help you in your cross-examination----"

She sat down herself as she spoke, and Sir Richard followed her example; but Anstice remained standing on one side of the fireplace; and after a glance at his face Chloe did not repeat her invitation.

Rather to Sir Richard's surprise Chloe did not wait for him to begin questioning her; but put a question to him on her own account.

"Sir Richard, has your visit anything to do with certain letters received lately by several people in Littlefield?"

Both the men, genuinely taken aback, stared at her in silence; and with a faint smile she proceeded quietly.

"Well, I have heard of those letters, anyway. In fact"--she paused dramatically before making her coup--"I've received one myself!"

"You have?" Anstice's voice was full of dismay.

"Yes. And I gather, from a short conversation I had with Mr. Carey last evening, that there have been several more of the things flying about this week."

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"Well"--Sir Richard looked rather helplessly at Anstice--"in that case there is no need to make a mystery of it. Yes, Chloe, we did call here to-night to talk over those abominable letters, and to see if you can possibly help us to follow up a rather extraordinary clue."

"A clue!" Chloe's eyes suddenly blazed.

"Yes. That is to say--possible clue." Sir Richard hedged a little. "But Anstice can tell you the story better than I can."

"Will you, please, tell me, Dr. Anstice?" She turned to him, grave again now; and he complied at once, giving her a full account of his visit to Clive, and relating at length the expert's opinion on the letters.

She heard him out in silence; her almond-shaped eyes on his face; and Anstice omitted nothing of the happenings of that day in town, save his unexpected meeting with her husband in Piccadilly.




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