"No-o. As a matter of fact, he'd gone to the bank. You know he works there. He's quite keen. He'd been late about getting off, so he'd started in a hurry. His desk wasn't locked. I don't know whether he ever locks it, because I never tried the drawers before. Anyhow, in the top drawer a lot of letters were tumbled in--letters he'd received, and letters he'd written--not in envelopes yet. All sorts of things were there in disorder--fountain pens, sealing wax, and--_the ring_! It was on an open letter that lay face up, a letter with a purple monogram of L.P. A perfume came up from the paper--a queer perfume, and the writing--in purple ink--was queer, too. I saw the beginning I told you about: 'My Best and Dearest Friend'--in French. Oh, Jack, I thought I should have died. I almost wish I had!"
"Nonsense!" Jack scouted her grief. "If the letter had had anything in it Pat was ashamed to have you see, you may be sure even he wouldn't have been so careless."
"It wasn't exactly carelessness made him leave it," Juliet said, sadly. "It was trust in me. He didn't dream that I--would do such a thing as read a letter of his. And I didn't read it. I didn't read another word, Jack. One side of me wanted to, horribly. The other side was disgusted at the idea--the stronger side, it turned out."
"Yes, I do think I was a saint. But virtue never has any reward except its own. I left the ring and the letter. But I felt half dead. I decided things couldn't go on as they were. I meant to speak to Pat when he came home."
"No, because he was ill--had a bad headache--the beginning of a cold. Or else he was pretending. I can't trust him now! But he looked pale and odd, so I nobly left him alone till this morning. Then I went to the study, and asked him to keep his promise about the ring. He pulled open the drawer. There it was on the letter, as I saw it yesterday. That gave me my chance. I said, 'Pavoya has been writing to you. I see her monogram.' And I pretended to read, 'My Best and Dearest Friend', for the first time."
"By George!" exclaimed Jack, as Juliet stopped for breath.
"By George, indeed!" she echoed. "Pat accused me of being suspicious. I accused him of being untrue. We had a _scene_! I never thought I could say such things to Pat as I said. The way he took them made me worse. He just looked at me in silence, with his mouth shut like a steel trap. I suppose he hates me now. If he hadn't deserved every word I said, _I_ should deserve to be hated for saying them. If he'd _loved_ me, he would have boxed my ears! I half expected he would. But seeing him stand like a graven image, I turned to leave the room. He opened the door for me to go out, and _handed me the ring_."
