curiosity, so as to keep it always under control. An important
letter--where haste was not an essential--was unopened for a while; his
morning newspaper he would let lie untouched beside his plate for
sufficiently long to check his natural inclination to glance hastily
over the headlines of the first page. In everything he tried by
self-imposed curbs to teach himself poise and patience and a quiet mind.
He had been at it for years. By now he had himself well in hand; though,
being exceedingly impetuous by nature, he occasionally broke over.

His course in this instance was typical--the more so, indeed, since he
had broken over and lost his poise only that afternoon. He wanted to
know what was inside that blank envelope. He was persuaded it contained
that which would either solve the mystery of the cab, or would in itself
lead on to a greater mystery. In either event, a most interesting
document lay within his reach--and he took up the handkerchief.
Discipline! The curb must be maintained.

And the handkerchief yielded nothing--not even when inspected under the
drop-light and with the aid of a microscope. Not a mark to indicate who
carried it nor whence it came.--Yet stay; in the closed room he detected
what had been lost in the open: a faint, a very faint, odour as of
azurea sachet. It was only a suggestion; vague and uncertain, and
entirely absent at times. And Harleston shook his head. The very fact
that there was nothing about it by which it might be identified
indicated the deliberate purpose to avoid identification. He put it
aside, and, taking up the roses, laid them under the light.

They were the usual American Beauties; only larger and more gorgeous
than the general run--which might be taken as an indication of the
wealth of the giver, or of the male desire to please the female; or of