girls eating chocolates?

"The day I first landed, sir," he said, "I found this."

He handed the torn envelope to Mr. Donovan.

"The postmark, sir," he said, "is London, December 15, 1913. Now how
do you think it got here?"

Donovan looked at the envelope curiously. He turned it over, felt the
texture of it with his fingers. At last he spoke.

"Mr. Phillips," he said, "I may be wrong in my interpretation of
facts. I don't know that any recognized minister of religion would
support me; but it's my belief that if Eve hadn't stirred that serpent
up, kind of annoyed him by poking round, the creature would have lain
quiet enough and there'd have been no trouble about the apple. That's
the nature of snakes. I've seen quite a few and I know. Now this
island is about the nearest thing to a real restful paradise that I've
bumped into since I first started my pilgrimage through this vale of
tears. I don't say there's no snakes in it. There may be. But my
notion is to let those snakes lie unless they start in molesting me."

"But," said Mr. Phillips, "there must have been somebody in the house
here, somebody who had no right to be in it. Otherwise how would that
envelope with the London postmark----"

"The British nation," said Donovan, "is at the present moment exciting
itself quite a bit about the effect of the Movies--what you call
cinemas your side--on the minds of the young. What your leading
reformers say is that it upsets the budding intellect of the rising
generation to present life to it as life is not. As a general rule I'm
not much taken up with eminent reformers. They're a class of citizens
I don't admire, though I admit they have their uses in supplying
loftiness of view and generally keeping up the more serious kinds of
charm practised by the female sex. But in the matter of the effect of
movies on the young mind those reformers may be right. It seems to me
you've gathered in some foolish notions about life, Mr. Phillips.
Desperate villains dropping envelopes and generally scattering clues
along their tracks would be interesting things, a darned sight more
interesting than eminent reformers. Only there aren't any. They don't
exist outside of novels and picture houses."

Mr. Donovan held out the torn envelope. Phillips took it and stuffed
it into his pocket again. He was unconvinced. Cinema exhibitions are
responsible for many vain imaginings, no doubt; but his envelope was a
fact. He had found it. The post