And what else? I asked, keenly interested, as I always was, by my
friend s incisive reasoning.
I noted, in passing, that she had written a note before leaving home
but after being fully dressed. You observed that her right glove was
torn at the forefinger, but you did not apparently see that both glove
and finger were stained with violet ink. She had written in a hurry and
dipped her pen too deep. It must have been this morning, or the mark
would not remain clear upon the finger. All this is amusing, though
rather elementary, but I must go back to business, Watson. Would you
mind reading me the advertised description of Mr. Hosmer Angel?
I held the little printed slip to the light. Missing, it said, on
the morning of the fourteenth, a gentleman named Hosmer Angel. About
five ft. seven in. in height; strongly built, sallow complexion, black
hair, a little bald in the centre, bushy, black side-whiskers and
moustache; tinted glasses, slight infirmity of speech. Was dressed,
when last seen, in black frock-coat faced with silk, black waistcoat,
gold Albert chain, and grey Harris tweed trousers, with brown gaiters
over elastic-sided boots. Known to have been employed in an office in
Leadenhall Street. Anybody bringing, &c, &c.
That will do, said Holmes. As to the letters, he continued,
glancing over them, they are very commonplace. Absolutely no clue in
them to Mr. Angel, save that he quotes Balzac once. There is one
remarkable point, however, which will no doubt strike you.
They are typewritten, I remarked.
Not only that, but the signature is typewritten. Look at the neat
little Hosmer Angel at the bottom. There is a date, you see, but no
superscription except Leadenhall Street, which is rather vague. The
point about the signature is very suggestive in fact, we may call it
conclusive.
Of what?
My dear fellow, is it possible you do not see how strongly it bears
upon the case?
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