When he got to the Club, he found a letter there, which caused him to
alter his mind."

"From whom was the letter?"

"Can't you guess," she said impatiently. "From the person, man or
woman, who wanted to see him and reveal this secret about me,
whatever it is. He got the letter at his Club, and went down Collins
Street to meet the writer. At the corner of the Scotch Church he found
Mr. Whyte, and on recognising him, left in disgust, and walked down
Russell Street to keep his appointment."

"Then you don't think he came back."

"I am certain he did not, for, as Brian told you, there are plenty of
young men who wear the same kind of coat and hat as he does. Who the
second man who got into the cab was I do not know, but I will swear
that it was not Brian."

"And you are going to look for that letter?"

"Yes, in Brian's lodgings."

"He might have burnt it."

"He might have done a thousand things, but he did not," she answered.
"Brian is the most careless man in the world; he would put the letter
into his pocket, or throw it into the waste-paper basket, and never
think of it again."