office in Pall Mall. He had always rather liked the man; his practical shrewdness, the entire absence of what might be called ' nonsense ' about him, a certain hard, definite clearness about him and his ways, was somehow satisfactory to the mind. And this morning these characteristics were peculiarly developed.
He gave Bertie a blunt and genuine welcome.
' Delighted to see you,' he said. ' Just come over, haven't you? Smoke?'
Bertie took a cigarette.
' I've called about some business connected with Mrs. Emsworth,' he said. ' I am here to settle it.'
Bilton looked puzzled a moment.
' Mrs. Emsworth?' he said. ' Business with Mrs. Emsworth? Ah, I remember. She sent me certain instructions some time ago. Let's see; where did I put them?'
He took down an alphabetical letter-case from a shelf, and after a short search drew out a packet.
' That's it,' he said. ' Ah, I see there is no discussion to pass between us. Curious love of mystery a woman has, especially when there is nothing to make a mystery about, as I dare say is the case here.'
' You don't know what the business is?' asked Bertie.
' I only know these instructions, and one of them, if you will pardon me reminding you, is that no discussion is to pass between us. You are to deliver to me a cheque, which I am to place to her account, and I am to deliver to you a sealed packet. This is it, is it not? Yes. You are also to deliver to me a certain letter which I am to verify, and then destroy in your presence.'
' I heard nothing of that,' said Bertie.
' It is in my instructions,' said Bilton.
' I can't give up that letter,' said Bertie. ' It——— ' He stopped.
Bilton got up.
