The door into Mrs.Boyce's sitting-room was still ajar.
He looked again at the envelope on the chair, and recognised the writing.

Walking across to where Mrs.Boyce sat, he took a seat beside her.
"Will you tell me," he said steadily--"I think you will admit I have a right to know--is Marcella in constant correspondence now with Henry Wharton ?" Mrs.Boyce's start was not perceptible.
"I believe so," she quickly replied.

"So far as I can judge, he writes to her almost every other day." "Does she show you his letters ?" "Very often.

They are entirely concerned with his daily interviews and efforts on Hurd's behalf." "Would you not say," he asked, after another pause, raising his clear grey eyes to her, "that since his arrival here in December Marcella's whole views and thoughts have been largely--perhaps vitally--influenced by this man ?" Mrs.Boyce had long expected questions of this kind--had, indeed, often marvelled and cavilled that Aldous had not asked them weeks before.

Now that they were put to her she was, first of all, anxious to treat them with common sense, and as much plain truth as might be fair to both parties.