There was an iron gate separating the path from the sidewalk, always
kept locked at night, and McIntyre had thought that sufficient
protection and had not put an iron grille in the window.
McIntyre closed and locked the window, then pulling out the gilt
chair which stood in front of the desk, he sat down, selected some
monogrammed paper and penned a few lines in his characteristic
though legible writing. Picking up some red sealing wax, he
lighted the small candle in its brass holder which matched the rest
of the desk ornaments, but before heating the wax he looked for his
signet ring, and frowned when he recalled leaving it on his dresser.
He hesitated a moment, then catching sight of a silver seal lying
at the back of the desk he picked it up and moistened the initial.
A few minutes later he blew out the candle, returned the wax and
seal to a pigeon hole, and carefully placed the envelope with its
well stamped letter "B" in his coat pocket, and tramped upstairs.
Helen heard his heavy tread coming down the hall toward her room,
and scrambled back to bed.
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