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 &quot;But when was this? Where was the letter found? He never said a word of it!&quot; she exclaimed.

&quot;The letter was found on the day of Darrow's death.&quot;

&quot;But I don't understand! Why has he never told me? Why should he seem so hopeless?&quot; She turned an ignorant appealing face on Mrs. Peyton. It was prodigious, but it was true—she felt nothing, saw nothing, but the crude fact of the opportunity.

Mrs. Peyton's voice trembled with the completeness of her triumph. &quot;I suppose his reason for not speaking is that he has scruples.&quot;

&quot;Scruples?&quot;

&quot;He feels that to use the design would be dishonest.&quot;

Miss Verney's eyes fixed themselves on her in a commiserating stare. &quot;Dishonest? When the poor man wished it himself?