Part 2.

The third day's post brought me a most important letter from a person with whom I was totally

unequainted.

He described himself as the acting partner of our man of business, our dear pig-headed

old Gilmore, and he informed me that he had lately received by the post, a letter addressed

to him in Miss Halcum's handwriting.

Unopening the envelope, he had discovered to his astonishment that it contained nothing

but a blank sheet of note paper.

This circumstance appeared to him so suspicious, suggesting to his restless legal mind that

the letter had been tampered with, that he had at once written to Miss Halcum and had

received no answer by return of post.

In this difficulty, instead of acting like a sensible man and letting things take their

proper course, his next absurd proceeding on his own showing was to pester me by writing

to inquire if I knew anything about it.

What the do-should-I know about it?

While are me, as well as himself.

I wrote back to that effect.

It was one of my keenest letters.

I have produced nothing with a sharper, epistolary edge to it, since I tendered his dismissal

in writing to that extremely troublesome person, Mr. Walter Hartwright.

My letter produced its effect, I heard nothing more from the lawyer.

This perhaps was not altogether surprising, but it was certainly a remarkable circumstance

...