The difference is only in the quality of the ink.
A very nasty day set in--it was Monday or Tuesday--when Max noticed with a feeling of great terror that the inscription upon the dear face was fading.

Max rubbed his eyes, looked first from a distance, then from all sides; but the fact was undeniable--the inscription was fading.

Soon the last letter also disappeared--the face was white like the recently whitewashed wall of a new house.

But he was convinced that the inscription had disappeared not of itself, but that some one had wiped it off.

Who?
Max went to his friend, John N.He knew and he felt sure that such a true, disinterested, and honest friend there never was and never would be.