He never felt any need to explain himself. You have spoken her name, I think, Marthe. Though scarcely two hours past midnight, it was perfectly light. “It is possible, mademoiselle,” he said, “that this affair is not yet ended. She confided in me yesterday. Perhaps that sealed letter was a form of confession, and thus relieved him on that score. Living, he knew that he would never send that letter. Katy oozed money from every pore of her being. We shall see.
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