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- Эдит Уортон
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He
lifted
his
eyes
to
Flamel
and
the
two
men
looked
at
each
other
.
Flamel
had
turned
white
and
his
lips
stirred
,
but
he
held
his
temperate
note
.
“
If
you
mean
to
imply
that
the
job
was
not
a
nice
one
,
you
lay
yourself
open
to
the
retort
that
you
proposed
it
.
But
for
my
part
I
’
ve
never
seen
,
I
never
shall
see
,
any
reason
for
not
publishing
the
letters
.
”
“
That
’
s
just
it
!
”
“
What
—
?
”
“
The
certainty
of
your
not
seeing
was
what
made
me
go
to
you
.
When
a
man
’
s
got
stolen
goods
to
pawn
he
doesn
’
t
take
them
to
the
police
-
station
.
”
“
Stolen
?
”
Flamel
echoed
.
“
The
letters
were
stolen
?
”
Glennard
burst
into
a
coarse
laugh
.
“
How
much
longer
do
you
expect
me
to
keep
up
that
pretence
about
the
letters
?
You
knew
well
enough
they
were
written
to
me
.
”
Flamel
looked
at
him
in
silence
.
“
Were
they
?
”
he
said
at
length
.
“
I
didn
’
t
know
it
.
”
“
And
didn
’
t
suspect
it
,
I
suppose
,
”
Glennard
sneered
.
The
other
was
again
silent
;
then
he
said
,
“
I
may
remind
you
that
,
supposing
I
had
felt
any
curiosity
about
the
matter
,
I
had
no
way
of
finding
out
that
the
letters
were
written
to
you
.
You
never
showed
me
the
originals
.
”
