Gramont smiled faintly, as though he were inwardly amused over the remark.
"Not at all curious," he said, his voice level. "It was pinned rather stoutly—I tore off the portion bearing the message. I'll wager that you'll find the end of the paper still on the door downstairs. You might make certain that its torn edge fits that of the paper in your pocket; if it did not, then the fact would be curious! I am most happy to have met you, Mr. Fell. I trust that we shall meet again, often."
With a smile, he extended his hand, which Mr. Fell shook cordially.
As Jachin Fell descended the wide staircase his face was red—quite red. One would have said that he had just been worsted in some encounter, and that the sense of defeat still rankled within him.
Upon gaining the lower hall he glanced at the door of the library. There, still pinned to the wood where it had been unregarded by the passersby, was a small scrap of paper. Mr. Fell glanced at it again, then shook his head and slowly turned away, as though resisting a temptation.
"No," he muttered. "No. It would be
