I should have expected your hands to be almost
identical."
"Oh, don't you know why that is?" Guy answered, with an innocent
smile. "I do it on purpose. Cyril writes sloping forward, the
ordinary way, so I slope backward just to prevent confusion. And I
form all my letters as unlike his as I can, though if I follow my
own bent they turn out the same; his way is more natural to me,
in fact, than the way I write myself. But I must do something to
keep our letters apart. That's why we always bank at a different
banker's. If I liked I could write exactly like Cyril. See, here's
his own signature to his letter this morning, and here's my imitation
of it, written off-hand, in my own natural manner. No forger on
earth could ever need anything more absolutely identical."
Montague Nevitt took it up, and examined it with interest. "Well,
this is wonderful," he said, comparing the two, stroke for stroke,
with the practised eye of an expert. "The signatures are as if
written by the self-same hand. Any cashier in England would accept
your cheque at sight for Cyril's."
He didn't add aloud that such similarity was very convenient. But,
none the less, in his own mind he thought so.
CHAPTER XV.
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