About two weeks
ago, my client returned to Paris from a stay at her chateau in
Normandy to find that he had almost denuded the town house.
Tapestries, pictures, sculptures--everything had been sold. Among
other things which he had taken was a Boule cabinet, which had been
used by my client as her private writing-desk. The cabinet was a most
valuable one; but it is not its monetary value which makes my client
so anxious to recover it."
He paused an instant and cleared his throat, and I realised that he
was coming to the really delicate part of the story.
"Monsieur X. had had the decency," he went on, more slowly, "to, as
he thought, retain his wife's private papers. He had caused the
contents of the various drawers to be dumped out upon a chair. But
there was one drawer of which he knew nothing--a secret drawer, known
only to my client. That drawer contained a packet of letters which my
client is most anxious to regain. Of their nature, I will say
nothing--indeed, I know very little about them, for, after all, that
is none of my business. But she has given me to understand that their
recovery is essential to her peace of mind."
I nodded again; there was really no need that he should say more.
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