The real Medcroft is in London, and it is he who is writing the letters.

How stupid of me!" "Aha!" exclaimed he triumphantly.

"Of course, she's getting letters from her husband.

Why not?
That's to be expected.

But, by the everlasting shagpat, do you suppose that her husband knows she's off here with another fellow who masquerades as her husband?
No!" He almost shouted it.