"Did I shoot straight, nurse?" he asked.
She leaned forward and saw the tiny column of blue smoke rising from the gravel.
"Quite straight," she said. "Mr. Dalmain, this letter has an Egyptian stamp, and the postmark is Cairo. It is sealed with scarlet sealing-wax, and the engraving on the seal is a plumed helmet with the visor closed."
"And the writing?" asked Garth, mechanically and very quietly.
"The handwriting is rather bold and very clear, with no twirls or flourishes. It is written with a broad nib."
"Will you kindly open it, nurse, and tell me the signature before reading the rest of the letter."
Nurse Rosemary fought with her throat, which threatened to close altogether and stifle her voice. She opened the letter, turned to the last page, and found the signature.
"It is signed 'Jane Champion,' Mr. Dalmain," said Nurse Rosemary.
"Read it, please," said Garth quietly. And Nurse Rosemary began.
Dear Dal: What CAN I write? If I were with you, there would be so much I could say; but writing is so difficult, so impossible.