"There was one of them," says Mr. Tulkinghorn, carelessly feeling--tight, unopenable oyster of the old school!--in the wrong coat-pocket, "the handwriting of which is peculiar, and I rather like. As I happened to be passing, and thought I had it about me, I looked in to ask you--but I haven't got it. No matter, any other time will do. Ah! here it is! I looked in to ask you who copied this."

"There was one of them," says Mr. Tulkinghorn, carelessly feeling in the wrong coat-pocket, "the handwriting of which is peculiar, and which I rather like. As I happened to be passing, I looked in to ask you who copied this."
