"You see it is closed as it was when you sent it to him.

He has never opened it.

He does not know what is in it." "He has-kept it--five years--unopened," Mona said in broken phrases scarce above a whisper.
"He has never opened it, as you see." "Give--give it to me," the wife said, stepping forward to stay Kitty's hand as she opened the lid of the desk to replace the letter.
"It's not your letter--no, you shall not," said Kitty firmly as she jerked aside the hand laid upon her wrist, and threw one arm on the lid, holding it down as Mrs.Crozier tried to keep it open.

Then with a swift action of the free hand she locked the desk and put the key in her pocket.
"If you destroyed this letter he would never believe but that it was worse than it is; and it is bad enough, Heaven knows, for any woman to have written to her husband--or to any one else's husband.

You thought you were the centre of the world when you wrote that letter.