"It is fresh. The bluebottle must have just fallen into it," said Mr. Manley in an unruffled tone.
Lord Loudwater cursed the bluebottle, restored it to the ink-pot, endorsed the cheque, and tossed it across the table to Mr. Manley.
"By the way," said Mr. Manley, with some hesitation, "there's another anonymous letter."
"Why didn't you burn it? I told you to burn 'em all," snapped his employer.
"This one is not about you. It's about Hutchings," said Mr. Manley in an explanatory tone.
"Hutchings? What about Hutchings?"
"You'd better read it," said Mr. Manley, handing him the letter. "It seems to be from some spiteful woman."
The letter was indeed written in female handwriting, and it accused the butler, wordily enough, of having received a commission from Lord Loudwater's wine merchants on a purchase of fifty dozen of champagne which he had bought from them a month before. It further stated that he had received a like commission on many other such purchases.
Lord Loudwater read it, scowling, sprang up from his chair with his eyes protruding further than usual, and cried: "The scoundrel! The blackguard! I'll teach him! I'll gaol him!"
He dashed at the electric bell by the fireplace, set his thumb on it, and kept it there.
