As Craig pointed out the resemblances with a pencil, my amazement
gradually changed into comprehension and comprehension into
conviction. The meaning of it all began to dawn on me.
The writing was identical. There were no differences!
. . . . . . . .
While we were locked in the secretary's office, Bennett and Elaine
were continuing their chat on various social topics. Suddenly,
however, with a glance at the clock, Bennett told Elaine that he
had an important letter to dictate, and that it must go off at
once.
She said that she would excuse him a few minutes and he pressed a
button to call his secretary.
Of course the secretary did not appear. Bennett left his office,
with some annoyance, and went into the adjoining room the door to
which Kennedy had not locked.
He hesitated a moment, then opened the door quietly. To his
astonishment, he saw Kennedy, the secretary, and myself apparently
making a close examination of the typewriter.
Gliding rather than walking back into his own office, he closed
the door and locked it. Almost instantly, fear and fury at the
presence of his hated rival, Kennedy, turned Bennett, as it were,
from the Jekyll of a polished lawyer and lover of Elaine into an
insanely jealous and revengeful Mr. Hyde. The strain was more than
his warped mind could bear.
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