Will you let me see it ?" That cruel, heartless, insulting letter! I looked up imploringly, with clasped hands.
"Pray don't," I said.

"Oh, pray don't ask me! It is unworthy of notice--it will only hurt you more deeply still." She held out her hand steadily.
"Will you let me see it ?" What could I do?
I took the letter from my pocket, bitterly regretting that I had not destroyed it, and handed it to her.
"Thank you." She walked to the window, and with her back to me read it through--read it more than once, I should judge, by the length of time it took her.

When she faced me again, there was no sign of change in her face.
"Is this letter of any use to you?
Do you want it ?" "No! I only wish I had destroyed it long ago!" "Then, with your permission, I will keep it." "You!" I cried in consternation.

"What can you want with that ?" A strange sort of look passed across her face, darkening it, and she held it tightly in her grasp.
"I want to keep it for a very good reason," she said, between her teeth; "if I ever forget the good turn Rose Danton has done me, this letter will serve to remind me of it." I was so frightened by her look, and tone, and words, that I could not speak.

She saw it, and grew composed again instantly.
"I need not detain you any longer," she said, looking at her watch.
"I have no more to say.