"How did you open it before? You have a duplicate key?
Yes, of course you have. Open it!"
From out of her bosom Lady Hilda had drawn a small key.
The box flew open. It was stuffed with papers. Holmes thrust
the blue envelope deep down into the heart of them, between
the leaves of some other document. The box was shut, locked,
and returned to the bedroom.
"Now we are ready for him," said Holmes; "we have still ten
minutes. I am going far to screen you, Lady Hilda. In return
you will spend the time in telling me frankly the real meaning
of this extraordinary affair."
"Mr. Holmes, I will tell you everything," cried the lady.
"Oh, Mr. Holmes, I would cut off my right hand before I gave him
a moment of sorrow! There is no woman in all London who loves her
husband as I do, and yet if he knew how I have acted -- how I have
been compelled to act -- he would never forgive me. For his own
honour stands so high that he could not forget or pardon a lapse
in another. Help me, Mr. Holmes! My happiness, his happiness,
our very lives are at stake!"
"Quick, madam, the time grows short!"
"It was a letter of mine, Mr.
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