"Prize idiots--imbeciles!"
"Very likely," said Benis. "But you're not talking to New York."
He made no move to take the paper which John held out in a shaking
hand.
"What is the matter with you?" he asked sternly.
"What's the matter with me? Oh, nothing. What's the matter with all
of us? Crazy--that's all! Here--read it! It's from Desire. Must have
posted it last night."
Spence put the letter aside.
"If you have news, you had better tell it. That is if you can talk
in an ordinary voice."
John laughed harshly. "My voice is all right. Not so dashed cool as
yours. Read it!"
Spence took the sheet held out to him; but he had no wish to> read
Desire's words to John.
"If it is a private letter--" he began.
"Oh, don't be a bigger fool than you have been! Unless," with sudden
suspicion, "you've known all along? Perhaps you have. Even you could
hardly have been so completely duped."
"If you will tell me what you are talking about--"
"Read it. It is plain enough."
The professor slowly opened the folded sheet. It was a longer note
than the one she had left for him.
"Dear John," he read, "if I I'd known yesterday that I would leave
so soon I could have said good-bye. But my decision was made
suddenly. I think you must have seen how it is with Benis and Mary
and I can't go "with-out telling you that I knew about it from the
first. I don't want you to blame Benis. He told me about it before
we were married, and I took the risk with my eyes open.
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