Chapter XI THE PUZZLEMENT OF NIGEL ENNISON Nigel Ennison walked towards his club the most puzzled man in London. She staggered to the fireplace and thrust it into the heart of the dying flames. I asked him why, and he hadn’t a reason. "Who isn't it like?" he asked, endeavouring to gain possession of the drawing, which, af the sound of his footstep, she crushed between her fingers. ‘It is not possible. The voice of the young seaman came floating down from the masthead, and the story of the immortal lovers had begun. The time was the 26th of November, 1703: the place, the Mint in Southwark. Innumerable little puzzles were instantly solved.
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