Yours respectfully,
Amelia Piper.
Enid Crofton stared down at the signature with a sensation of puzzled
dismay. _Piper married?_ This was indeed a complication, and a
complication which in her most anxious communings she had never thought
of. The man had always behaved like a bachelor--for instance he had
always made love to the maids. There also came back to her the memory of
something her husband had once said, with one of his grimly humorous
looks:--"Piper's a regular dog! If he'd been born in a different class
of life he'd have been a real Don Juan." She now asked herself very
anxiously how far a married Don Juan of any class confides in his wife?
Does he tell her his real secrets, or does he keep them to himself?
Judging by her own experience the average man who loves a woman is only
too apt to tell her not only his own, but other people's secrets.
Slowly she put the letter back in its envelope. She had gone to a great
deal of trouble, and even to some little expense, over procuring Piper a
really good situation. She had seen not only his new employer, but also
what she liked doing far less, his new employer's wife; and she had got
him extraordinarily good wages, even for these days.
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