"If I didn't I should never have stuck to it, Nancy. It's rather trying work for any man that hasn't a heart like the nether millstone; and I'm afraid I haven't."
Faunce had been at work nearly two hours, and his wife's interest in a transcendently lovely heroine and a repulsively plain hero was beginning to flag, before he came upon a blurred and broken line that rewarded his patience.
In that splotched and besmeared labyrinth of lines the detective's trained eye had discovered—
1. A date, March 27.
2. Two words, "meet me——"
3. A line of fragmentary syllables, "Sou—ton—est—o'clock."
4. Three words, "always loved you."
5. "Your—nd——"
6. "ig——"
This much, the inky impression of a heavy hand and a broad-nibbed pen, Faunce was able to decipher upon two sheets of blotting-paper.