"It is important," said Mr. Hurst. "I can't rest. I've eaten nothing
all day."

"Glad to hear it," snapped the irritated Mr. Mott.

"If you will give her that letter, I shall feel easier," said Mr. Hurst.

"I'll give it to her in the morning," said the other, snatching it from
him. "Now get off."

Mr. Hurst still murmuring apologies, went, and Mr. Mott, also murmuring,
returned to bed. The night was chilly, and it was some time before he
could get to sleep again. He succeeded at last, only to be awakened an
hour later by a knocking more violent than before. In a state of mind
bordering upon frenzy, he dived into his trousers again and went
blundering downstairs in the dark.

"Sorry to--" began Mr. Hurst.

Mr. Mott made uncouth noises at him.

"I have altered my mind," said the young man. "Would you mind letting me
have that letter back again? It was too final."

"You--get--off !" said the other, trembling with cold and passion.

"I must have that letter," said Mr. Hurst, doggedly. "All my future
happiness may depend upon it."