It seems to _me_ the right thing. If you disagree with me I'm
very sorry. But, frankly, it appears to me that I ought to go.'
'Who could doubt it?'
'Read the letter for yourself,' said Bruce, suddenly taking it out of
his pocket and giving it to her. 'There, you see. "Dear Ottley,"
he says.'
Here Bruce went to her side of the table and leant over her, reading the
letter aloud to her over her shoulder, while she was reading it
to herself.
'"DEAR OTTLEY,--If you could look in tomorrow about half-past four, I
should be very glad to see you. Yours sincerely, AYLMER ROSS." Fairly
cordial, I think, isn't it? Or not? Perhaps you think it cold. Would you
call it a formal letter?'
Bruce took the letter out of her hand and read it over again to himself.
'Very nice, dear,' said Edith.
'So I thought.' He put it away with a triumphant air.
Edith was thinking that the writing was growing stronger. Aylmer must be
better.
'I say, I hope it isn't a sign he's not so well, that he wants to see
me. I don't call it a good sign. He's depressed. He thinks I'll
cheer him up.'
'And I'm sure you will. Ah, here's Madame Frabelle.'
'I'm afraid I'm a little late,' said their guest, with her amiable
smile.
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