Even that customary formula, "dear philanthropic crook," that had prefaced every line she had ever written him before, had been omitted.

His eyes traversed the first few lines with that strange indifference that had settled upon him.

What, after all, did it matter what it was; he could do nothing--not even save himself probably.

And then, with a little start, he read the lines over again, muttering snatches from them.
".

.