"Are you engaged in the morning?" he asked her very quickly.

"I ought to look in at my dressmaker's for a minute," she said, feeling
angry with Nigel that he had made her promise to conceal even a few
minutes of her day.

No more was said on the subject.

Presently, Percy went upstairs to his room and turned the key. He then
took out of a drawer and placed in front of him, in their order, three
rather curious-looking letters, written in typewriting on ordinary plain
white notepaper. The first two, both of which began "_Dear Mr.
Kellynch_," were four pages long, and gave some information in somewhat
mysterious terms. The third one had no beginning, and merely mentioned
an hour and a place where, he was told, he would find his wife on the
following morning, if he wished to do so, in the company of an
individual with the initials N. H. The letter further advised him to go
there and find her and take steps to put a stop to the proceedings which
had been watched for some time by somebody who signed the letter "your
true and reliable friend."

* * * * *

The right thing to do, according to all unwritten laws of the conduct of
a gentleman, would be to destroy such communications and at once forget
them. To show them to her, Percy felt, would be degrading to himself and
to such a woman as his wife, whom he now realised he placed on a
pedestal. The idea of seeing the pedestal rock seemed to take the earth
from under his feet. But not only that, he now felt that, though he
hadn't known it, he loved her, not with a mild, half-patronising
affection, but with the maddening jealousy of a lover in the most
passionate stage of love. A man placed in his position nearly always
thinks that it is the idea of being deceived that hurts the most.
Particularly when the object of suspicion is his wife. Now he knew it
was not that; he could forgive the deception; but he couldn't bear to
think that any other man could think of her from that point of view at
all. And if he found that the mere facts stated in the three letters
were true, even if the inferences suggested were utterly false, he had
made up his mind what to do. He would go and see Nigel on the subject,
forbid him the house, saying that too frequent visits had caused talk,
and never mention the subject to Bertha. That was his present plan.
Perhaps it would not be possible to carry it out, but that was his idea.

* * * *