Book 2 Chapter 3

"Now, Dr. Anstice." Clive pushed forward a chair for his visitor and sank into another one himself, leaning back and joining his finger-tips in a manner which again reminded Anstice involuntarily of the super-detective. "I expect your time is as valuable as mine--probably more so--and we won't waste it in preliminaries. I gather you have some specimens of handwriting to submit to me?"

"Yes. I have two letters to show you." He drew them carefully from his notebook. "What I want to know is, whether they were both written by the same hand or not."

Mr. Clive unlaced his finger-tips and took the papers carefully from his visitor; after which, rather to Anstice's amusement, he removed his eyeglasses and proceeded to study the letters without their aid.

For several minutes he pored over them in silence, the letters spread out on the table before him; and Anstice, watching, could make nothing of the inscrutable expression on his face. Presently he rose, went to a little cabinet at the end of the room, and took from it a small magnifying glass, with whose aid he made a further study of the two documents; after which he resumed his eyeglasses and turned to Anstice with a smile.

"Your little problem is quite simple, Dr. Anstice," he said amiably. "As soon as I looked at these letters I guessed them to be the work of one hand. With the help of my glass I know my guess to be correct."