He swallowed once or twice to remove the obstruction,
but without success. A kind of pall had descended on the landscape,
blotting out the sun.
Of all the rotten sensations in this world, the worst is the
realisation that a thousand-to-one chance has come off, and caused our
wrong-doing to be detected. There had seemed no possibility of that
little ruse of his being discovered, and yet here was Billie in full
possession of the facts. It almost made the thing worse that she did
not say how she had come into possession of them. This gave Sam that
feeling of self-pity, that sense of having been ill-used by Fate, which
makes the bringing home of crime so particularly poignant.
"Fine day!" he muttered. He had a sort of subconscious feeling that it
was imperative to keep engaging Webster in light conversation.
"Yes, sir. Weather still keeps up," agreed the valet suavely.
Sam frowned over the note. He felt injured. Sending a fellow notes
didn't give him a chance. If she had come in person and denounced him
it would not have been an agreeable experience, but at least it would
have been possible then to have pleaded and cajoled and--and all that
sort of thing.
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