The letter I got last night was a bogus one; there is no such person as J.Collins, M.D.My brother had never felt better in his life.

You will, I am sure, very soon trace the cunning writer of that epistle--ah! but I was in a rage, I can tell you, when I got to the Metropole at Brighton, and found that Emile, my brother, had never heard of any Doctor Collins.
"'The last train to town had gone, although I raced back to the station as hard as I could.

Poor old Robertson, he has a terrible cold.

Ah yes! my loss! it is for me a very serious one; if I had not made that lucky bargain with Mr.Shipman last night I should, perhaps, at this moment be a ruined man.
"'The stones I had yesterday were, firstly, some magnificent Brazilians; these I sold to Mr.Shipman mostly.

Then I had some very good Cape diamonds--all gone; and some quite special Parisians, of wonderful work and finish, entrusted to me for sale by a great French house.