"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.

If you came here to insult me--" "There can be no insult in asking a few questions," said Random, throwing aside his stiffness and speaking decisively.

"I received this letter, which bears a London postmark, by the mid-day post.

The handwriting is disguised, and there is neither address nor signature nor date.