"Yes,"
she went on, seating herself again, and resuming the exercise of the
fan; "you are getting better already, Mr. Noel.--Don't ask me about this
anonymous letter until you have thought for yourself, and have given
your own opinion first." She went on with the fanning, and looked him
hard in the face all the time. "Think," she said; "think, sir, without
troubling yourself to express your thoughts. Trust to my intimate
sympathy with you to read them. Yes, Mr. Noel, this letter is a paltry
attempt to frighten you. What does it say? It says you are the object of
a conspiracy directed by Miss Vanstone. We know that already--the lady
of the inflamed eyes has told us. We snap our fingers at the conspiracy.
What does the letter say next? It says the writer has valuable
information to give you if you will pay for it. What did you call this
person yourself just now, sir?"
"I called him a scoundrel," said Noel Vanstone, recovering his
self-importance, and raising himself gradually in his chair.
"I agree with you in that, sir, as I agree in everything else,"
proceeded Mrs. Lecount. "He is a scoundrel who really has this
information and who means what he says, or he is a mouthpiece of Miss
Vanstone's, and she has caused this letter to be written for the purpose
of puzzling us by another form of disguise.
Pages:
471
472
473
474
475
476
477
478
479
480
481
482
483
484
485
486
487
488
489
490
491
492
493
494
495