He has seized my chair and begun to haul me closer to the table. I shake him off. ''Concerns me, how?'' I say, moodily. I have been sitting, thinking over the shape of my life.
''You''ll see. Look here.'' He puts his hand to his waistcoat pocket and draws something out. A paper. He waves it.
''A bond, dear boy?'' says Mrs Sucksby, stepping to his side.
''A letter,'' he says, ''from—well, guess who? Will you guess, Maud?'' I say nothing. He pulls a face. ''Won''t you play? Shall I give you a clue? It is someone you know. A friend, very dear.''·思·兔·在·線·閱·讀·
My heart gives a lurch. ''Sue!'' I say at once. But he jerks his head, and snorts.
''Not her. You think they give them paper, where she is?'' He glances at Dainty; who opens and closes her eyes, and then sleeps on. ''Not her,'' he says again, more quietly. ''I mean, another friend of yours. You won''t guess?''
I turn my face. ''Why should I? You mean to tell me, don''t you?''
He waits another moment; then: ''Mr Lilly,'' he says. ''Your uncle, that was.—Aha!'' I have started. ''You are interested!''
''Let me see,'' I say. Perhaps my uncle is searching for me, after all.
''Now, now.'' He holds the letter high. ''