“You favoured me, Mr. Handford,” said Mr. Inspector, “by writing down your name and address, and I produce the piece of paper on which you wrote it. Comparing the same with the writing on the flyleaf of this book on the table⁠—and a sweet pretty volume it is⁠—I find the writing of the entry, ‘ Mrs. John Rokesmith. From her husband on her birthday’⁠—and very gratifying to the feelings such memorials are⁠—to correspond exactly. Can I have a word with you?”

“Certainly. Here, if you please,” was the reply.