Chapter V.

Having told me the name of Mr. Candie's assistant, Betteridge appeared to think that we'd wasted

enough of our time on an insignificant subject.

He resumed the prusel of Rosanna's spearmen's letter.

On my side I sat at the window, waiting until he had done.

Little by little the impression produced on me by Ezra Jennings.

It seemed perfectly unaccountable in such a situation as mine that any human being

should have produced an impression on me at all, faded from my mind.

My thoughts flowed back into their former channel.

Once more I forced myself to look my own incredible position, resolutely in the face.

Once more I reviewed in my own mind the course which I had at last summoned Composure enough

to plan out for the future.

To go back to London that day, to put the whole case before Mr. Brough and last and most

important, to obtain no matter by what means or at what sacrifice a personal interview

with Rachel.

This was my plan of action, so far as I was capable of forming it at the time.

There was more than an hour still to spare before the train started, and there was the

bare chance that better age might discover something in the unread portion of Rosanna

Spearman's letter which it might be useful for me to know before I left the house in

which the diamond had been maused.

For that chance I was now waiting.

The letter ended in these terms.

...