“ ‘Miserable morning,’ said Tom. No. The chair would not be drawn into conversation.

“ ‘Which press did you point to?⁠—you can tell me that,’ said Tom. Devil a word, gentlemen, the chair would say.

“ ‘It’s not much trouble to open it, anyhow,’ said Tom, getting out of bed very deliberately. He walked up to one of the presses. The key was in the lock; he turned it, and opened the door. There was a pair of trousers there. He put his hand into the pocket, and drew forth the identical letter the old gentleman had described!