She got up, put on a dressing-gown, and went to Margaret's room. It was
empty. The bed had not been slept in. On the pillow was a note.
It's no good; I can't help myself. I've gone back to him. Don't trouble
about me any more. It's quite hopeless and useless.
M
Susie gave a little gasp. Her first thought was for Arthur, and she
uttered a wail of sorrow because he must be cast again into the agony of
desolation. Once more she had to break the dreadful news. She dressed
hurriedly and ate some breakfast. There was no train till nearly eleven,
and she had to bear her impatience as best she could. At last it was time
to start, and she put on her gloves. At that moment the door was opened,
and Arthur came in.
She gave a cry of terror and turned pale.
'I was just coming to London to see you,' she faltered. 'How did you find
out?'
'Haddo sent me a box of chocolates early this morning with a card on
which was written: _I think the odd trick is mine_.'
This cruel vindictiveness, joined with a schoolboy love of taunting the
vanquished foe, was very characteristic.
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