Upon return from an early call, I was surprised by the smell of Sherinnford’s tobacco, just beyond the door to our lodgings. Awakened this early, contrary to his Bohemian habits, promised a day of interest. With care, I unlatched the door.
My view upon entering, was of him in his wicker chair, eyes closed in deep meditation with legs crossed and palms together in the vertical, his long fingers forming the apex. I stole quietly across, towards my room.”My dear Watts, has my company these past years dulled you of my presence?” “Pray take a seat” he motioned to a chair,”and join me, Mrs. Knudson will return shortly with breakfast, and I am sure you would not find a cup of hot coffee uninviting on such a cold morning.”
Removing my frock coat, I proceeded to sit when he removed from his coat pocket a note.” Tell me Watts, what do you make of that?” Studying the note I replied,”It appears to have been written in haste, the writing is nervous and the paper is torn round the edges, as if torn from a larger sheet.”