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           Gowingsuddenlyseizedalltheparsleyoffthecoldmutton,andthrewitfullinmyface.IlookeddaggersatGowing,whoreplied:“Isay,it’snogoodtryingtolookindignant,withyourhairfullofparsley.”Irosefromthetable,andinsistedthatastopshouldbeputtothisfooleryatonce.FrankMutlarshouted:“Time,gentlemen,please!time!”andturnedoutthegas,leavingusinabsolutedarkness.

           Iwasfeelingmywayoutoftheroom,whenIsuddenlyreceivedahardintentionalpunchatthebackofmyhead.Isaidloudly:“Whodidthat?”Therewasnoanswer;soIrepeatedthequestion,withthesameresult.Istruckamatch,andlightedthegas.Theywerealltalkingandlaughing,soIkeptmyowncounsel;but,aftertheyhadgone,IsaidtoCarrie;“Thepersonwhosentmethatinsultingpost-cardatChristmaswashereto-night.”

           December29.—Ihadamostvividdreamlastnight.Iwokeup,andonfallingasleep,dreamedthesamedreamoveragainprecisely.IdreamtIheardFrankMutlartellinghissisterthathehadnotonlysentmetheinsultingChristmascard,butadmittedthathewastheonewhopunchedmyheadlastnightinthedark.Asfatewouldhaveit,Lupin,atbreakfast,wasreadingextractsfromaletterhehadjustreceivedfromFrank.

           Iaskedhimtopasstheenvelope,thatImightcomparethewriting.Hedidso,andIexamineditbythesideoftheenvelopecontainingtheChristmascard.Idetectedasimilarityinthewriting,inspiteoftheattempteddisguise.IpassedthemontoCarrie,whobegantolaugh.