Thirty-four LETTER FROM SOUTH AMERICA
It was some weeks later.
Frankie had just received a letter. It bore the stamp of one of the lesswell-known South American republics.
After reading it through, she passed it to Bobby.
It ran as follows:
Dear Frankie, Really, I congratulate you! You and youryoung naval² friend have shattered the plans of a lifetime. Ihad everything so nicely arranged.
Would you really like to hear all about it? My lady friendhas given me away so thoroughly³ (spite, I’m afraid—wo-men are invariable spiteful!) that my most damaging ad-missions won’t do me any further harm. Besides, I amstarting life again. Roger Bassington-ffrench is dead.
I fancy I’ve always been what they call a “wrong ’un.”
Even at Oxford⁴ I had a little lapse⁵. Stupid, because it wasbound to be found out. The Pater didn’t let me down. Buthe sent me to the Colonies.
I fell in with Moira and her lot fairly soon. She was the realthing. She was an accomplished⁶ criminal by the time shewas fifteen. When I met her things were getting a bit toohot for her. The American police were on her trail.
She and I liked each other. We decided⁷ to make a match ofit but we’d a few plans to carry through first.
To begin with, she married Nicholson. By doing so she re-moved herself to another world and the police lost sight ofher. Nicholson was just coming over to England to start aplace for nerve patients. He was looking for a suitablehouse to buy cheap. Moira got him on to the Grange.
She was still working in with her gang in the dope busi-ness. Without knowing it, Nicholson was very useful toher.
I had always had two ambitions. I wanted to be the ownerof Merroway and I wanted to command an immenseamount of money. A Bassington- ffrench played a greatpart in the reign⁸ of Charles II. Since then the family hasdwindled down to mediocrity. I felt capable of playing agreat part again. But I had to have money.

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