Supper had been over for some time, but the dishes had not
yet been cleared away, and when Betty had handed Calumet the letter he
had shoved the tablecloth back to make room for his elbows while he
read. Bob had gone to bed; Malcolm and Dade were somewhere outside.
Calumet had started to go with them, but had remained when Betty had
told him quietly that she wanted to talk to him on a matter of
importance. She sat opposite him now, unconcernedly balancing a knife
on the edge of a coffee cup, while she waited for him to finish reading
the letter.
"Therefore," continued the letter, "by this time your heart must have
softened a little toward me. I am certain of this, for I know that, in
spite of your other weaknesses, that cupidity and greed have no place
in your mental make-up. I know, too, that you are no fool, and by this
time you must have digested my first letter, and if you have you are
not blaming me as much as you did in the beginning.
"I have talked this over with Betty, and she is of the opinion that as
you have thus far obeyed my wishes you should be permitted to have a
free hand henceforth, for she insists that perhaps by this time the
restraint she has put on you will have resulted in you hating her, and
in that case she says she will not care to remain here any longer.
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