He did not attempt to touch or read them, but sat looking moodily at his blotting-pad, preoccupied and absent.
Presently he rose with a little grunt, and, crossing the room, unlocked a very commonplace and old-fashioned cupboard, the top of which served as a sideboard.

From the cupboard he took a dozen little books and carried them to the table.

They were of uniform size and each bore the figures of a year.

They appeared to be, and indeed were, diaries, but they were not Mr.Milburgh's diaries.

One day he chanced to go into Thornton Lyne's room at the Stores and had seen these books arrayed on a steel shelf of Lyne's private safe.