"
"Can you swear that no one else has ever used this perfume?"
asked Random.
Mrs. Jasher lifted her penciled eyebrows.
"I do not know why you should ask me to swear," she said quietly,
"but I assure you that I keep this perfume which comes from
China to myself. Not even Lucy Kendal has it, although she
greatly desired some. We women are selfish in some things, my
dear man. It's a most delicious perfume."
"Yes," said Sir Frank, staring at her, "and very strong."
"What do you mean by that?"
"Nothing. Only I should think that such a perfume would be good
for the cold you contracted by going to London last night."
Mrs. Jasher turned suddenly pale under her rouge, and her hand
clenched the fan so tightly as to break the handle.
"I have not been to London for quite a month," she faltered.
"What a strange remark!"
"A true one," said the baronet, fumbling in the pocket of his
jacket. "You went to London last night by the seven o'clock
train to post this," and he held out the anonymous letter.
The widow, now quite pale, and looking years older, sat up on the
couch with a painful effort, which suggested old age.
"I don't understand," she said, trying to speak calmly. "I was
not in London, and I did not post any letter.
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