He said:
“Yes, blighted; and so’s his--I mean Browne’s. She got my letter that
night and his next morning. That night she felt all her old feeling for
me return because of the sonnit, thinking I’d done it. Then, next
morning, she got just the very same stuff to a word from Browne, with a
letter saying he had burned the midnight oil to compose it. Well, there
you are. What does she do? Insted of accepting my statement, being the
first, she argues in a most elaborate way that I couldn’t possibly have
coppied from Browne, and Browne couldn’t possibly have copied from me.
But it would have been to much of a coinsidence if we’d both written
exsaxtly the same sonnit out of our own heads, so what does she
conklude?”