The amateur detective looked a beaten man already, but he talked through his teeth of inspecting the revolvers in every pawnbroker's shop in London.
"It will take you a year," said the old soldier, cheerfully.
"It seems the only chance," replied the despondent novelist.

"It is a case of doing that or nothing." "Then take the advice of an older fogey than yourself, and do nothing! You are quite right to believe in the lady's innocence; there is no excuse for entertaining any other belief, still less for expressing it.
But when you come to putting salt on the real culprit, that's another matter.

My dear fellow, it's not the sort of thing that you or I could hope to do on our own, even were the case far simpler than it is.

It was very sporting of you to offer for a moment to try your hand; but if I were you I should confess without delay that the task is far beyond you, for that's the honest truth." Langholm walked back to his hotel, revolving this advice.

Its soundness was undeniable, while the source from which it came gave it exceptional weight and value.