"Well, then, the mystery is no mystery at all," she said. "On that very same day--the day your darky sent your clothes to the cleaner's--I had two of Dallam's suits sent down to be pressed. That little man at the tailor shop--Pedaloski--found this paper crumpled up in your pocket and took it out and then later forgot where he had found it. So, as I understand, he tried to read it, seeking for a clue to its ownership. He can't read much English, you know, so probably he has had no idea then or thereafter of the meaning of it; but he did know enough English to make out the name of Wybrant. Look at it and you'll see my name occurs twice in it, but your name does not occur at all. So don't you see what happened--what he did? Thinking the paper must have come from one of my husband's pockets, he smoothed it out as well as he could and folded it up and pinned it to the sleeve of Dallam's blue serge and sent it here. My maid found it when she was undoing the bundle before hanging up the clothes in Dallam's closet, and she brought it to me, thinking, I suppose, it was a bill from the cleaner's shop, and I read it. Simple enough explanation, isn't it, when you know the facts?" "Simple," he agreed, "and yit at the same time sort of wonderful too. And whut did you do when you read it?" "I was stunned at first. I tried at first not to believe it. But I couldn't deceive myself. Something inside of me told me that it was true--every word of it. I suppose it was the woman in me that told me. And somehow I knew that you had written it, although really that part was not so very hard a thing to figure out, considering everything. And somehow--I can't tell you why though--I was morally sure that after you had written it some other person had forbidden your making use of it in any way, and instinctively--anyhow, I suppose you might say it was by instinct--I knew that it had reached me, of all persons, by accident and not by design. "I tried to reach you--you were gone away. But I did reach that funny little man Pedaloski by telephone, and found out from him why he had pinned the paper on Dallam's coat. I did not tell my husband about it. He doesn't know yet. I don't think I shall ever tell him. For two days, judge, I wrestled with the problem of whether I should send for my mother and tell her that now I knew the thing which all her life she had guarded from me. Finally I decided to wait and see you first, and try to find out from you the exact circumstances under which the paper was written, and the reason why, after writing it, you crumpled it up and hid it away.