I left her, I think, a little comforted, and I went in search of Dr Leidner and told him of our conversation.
Im glad she told you, he said simply.
It has worried me dreadfully.
I feel sure that all those faces and tappings on the window-pane have been sheer imagination on her part.
I havent known what to do for the best.
What do you think of the whole thing?
I didnt quite understand the tone in his voice, but I answered promptly enough.
Its possible, I said, that these letters may be just a cruel and malicious hoax.
Yes, that is quite likely.
But what are we to do?
They are driving her mad.
I dont know what to think.
I didnt either.
It had occurred to me that possibly a woman might be concerned.
Those letters had a feminine note about them.
Mrs Mercado was at the back of my mind.
Supposing that by some chance she had learnt the facts of Mrs Leidners first marriage?
She might be indulging her spite by terrorizing the other woman.
I didnt quite like to suggest such a thing to Dr Leidner.
Its so difficult to know how people are going to take things.
Oh, well, I said cheerfully, we must hope for the best.
I think Mrs Leidner seems happier already from just talking about it.
Thats always a help, you know.
Its bottling things up that makes them get on your nerves.
Im very glad she has told you, he repeated.
Its a good sign.
It shows she likes and trusts you.
Ive been at my wits end to know what to do for the best.
It was on the tip of my tongue to ask him whether hed thought of giving a discreet hint to the local police, but afterwards I was glad I hadnt done so.
What happened was this.
On the following day Mr Coleman was going in to Hassanieh to get the workmens pay.
He was also taking in all our letters to catch the air mail.
The letters, as written, were dropped into a wooden box on the dining-room window-sill.
Last thing that night Mr Coleman took them out and was sorting them out into bundles and putting rubber bands round them.
Suddenly he gave a shout.
What is it? I asked.
He held out a letter with a grin.
Its our Lovely Louise she really is going balmy.
Shes addressed a letter to someone at 42nd Street, Paris, France.
I dont think that can be right, do you?
Do you mind taking it to her and asking what she does mean?
Shes just gone off to bed.
I took it from him and ran off to Mrs Leidner with it and she amended the address.
It was the first time I had seen Mrs Leidners handwriting, and I wondered idly where I had seen it before, for it was certainly quite familiar to me.
It wasnt till the middle of the night that it suddenly came to me. Except that it was bigger and rather more straggling, it was extraordinarily like the writing on the anonymous letters.
New ideas flashed through my head.
Had Mrs Leidner conceivably written those letters herself?
And did Dr Leidner half-suspect the fact?
Chapter 10.
Saturday Afternoon