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 put it back into the envelope which he laid down on the table, and said in a conciliatory tone: ‘Forgive me, Magda, that was not right.’

His wife forced herself to a gentle smile to conceal her terror, and it was a little while before she was able to say: ‘You know it is from our people, nothing of importance, nothing new.’

She at once turned the conversation: ‘You are early to-day; has anything happened?’

‘What should have happened?’ said her husband, ‘I hurried home because I hoped we might get a walk. It is such lovely weather. If you feel inclined, we might go to the Sophia Island. Will you get ready?’

Whistling softly to himself, he went to his room to wash his hands and put on fresh cuffs.

When he had gone, his wife opened a drawer of her bureau which contained her most precious and valuable possessions, took out a small box of cedarwood, locked the letter up in it, put the key in her pocket, and went out to dress.

They went down the staircase together and out into the street, where Hron offered his arm to his wife. He was delighted to feel