But you must understand that you are an important witness in this case, and if you attempt to leave London you will be locked up." So I came back to my rooms, horribly entangled in a mystery that is little to my liking.

I have been sitting here in my study for some time, going over it again and again.

There have been many footsteps on the stairs, many voices in the hall.
Waiting here for the dawn, I have come to be very sorry for the cold handsome captain.

After all, he was a man; his very tread on the floor above, which it shall never hear again, told me that.
What does it all mean?
Who was the man in the hall, the man who had argued so loudly, who had struck so surely with that queer Indian knife?
Where is the knife now?
And, above all, what do the white asters signify?
And the scarab scarf-pin?
And that absurd Homburg hat?
Lady of the Carlton, you wanted mystery.

When I wrote that first letter to you, little did I dream that I should soon have it to give you in overwhelming measure.
And--believe me when I say it--through all this your face has been constantly before me--your face as I saw it that bright morning in the hotel breakfast room.