"You're like a little gray mouse. I wonder if there is any lurking devil in you for me to evoke? With your gray eyes you look so demure! Are you really as quiet as you seem? I'd like to have a talk with you alone and see!"
"She has a devil in her, all right," remarked Stellery, "and a delicious enough one, too! Oh, she can be charming, that mouse! It's very evident that the fellow who's writing these letters doesn't know her very well. That's one satisfaction."
Astro took up one more.
"I saw you at the opera last night. You had more style, more apparent culture, more caste, than any woman in the house. Once you looked full at me, and I wondered what it would seem like to have a wife like you. To own you, and be owned by so wonderful a creature! How proud I'd be!"
"I remember that night. Mrs. Stellery does look well when she's dressed up. But curse such audacity! Writing to my wife like that! It's an outrage, by Jove! You'll see why I don't care to go to the police with these letters. But they must be stopped, and I must find out who's doing it!"
"How long has this thing been going on?"
"For two months, now. I have a bunch more of 'em at home that my wife gave me."
The letters on the table were all written on telegraph blanks and enclosed in government-stamped envelopes.
"All typewritten like these?"
"No; the first ones were crudely printed in pencil, as if a child had done them."
