There, the first of the two sheets of paper came to an end.  I handed it back to Ezra Jennings.

“That is what you heard at his bedside?” I said.

“Literally and exactly what I heard,” he answered—­“except that the repetitions are not transferred here from my short-hand notes.  He reiterated certain words and phrases a dozen times over, fifty times over, just as he attached more or less importance to the idea which they represented.  The repetitions, in this sense, were of some assistance to me in putting together those fragments.  Don’t suppose,” he added, pointing to the second sheet of paper, “that I claim to have reproduced the expressions which Mr. Candy himself would have used if he had been capable of speaking connectedly.  I only say that I have penetrated through the obstacle of the disconnected expression, to the thought which was underlying it connectedly all the time.  Judge for yourself.”

I turned to the second sheet of paper, which I now knew to be the key to the first.

Once more, Mr. Candy’s wanderings appeared, copied in black ink; the intervals between the phrases being filled up by Ezra Jennings in red ink.  I reproduce the result here, in one plain form; the original language and the interpretation of it coming close enough together in these pages to be easily compared and verified.

“...  Mr. Franklin Blake is clever and agreeable, but he wants taking down a peg when he talks of medicine.  He confesses that he has been suffering from want of sleep at night.  I tell him that his nerves are out of order, and that he ought to take medicine.  He tells me that taking medicine and groping in the dark mean one and the same thing.  This before all the company at the dinner-table.  I say to him, you are groping after sleep, and nothing but medicine can help you to find it.  He says to me, I have heard of the blind leading the blind, and now I know what it means.  Witty—­but I can give him a night’s rest in spite of his teeth.  He really wants sleep; and Lady Verinder’s medicine chest is at my disposal.  Give him five-and-twenty minims of laudanum to-night, without his knowing it; and then call to-morrow morning.  ’Well, Mr. Blake, will you try a little medicine to-day?  You will never sleep without it.’—­’There you are out, Mr. Candy:  I have had an excellent night’s rest without it.’  Then, come down on him with the truth!  ’You have had something besides an excellent night’s rest; you had a dose of laudanum, sir, before you went to bed.  What do you say to the art of medicine, now?’”

Admiration of the ingenuity which had woven this smooth and finished texture out of the ravelled skein was naturally the first impression that I felt, on handing the manuscript back to Ezra Jennings.  He modestly interrupted the first few words in which my sense of surprise expressed itself, by asking me if the conclusion which he had drawn from his notes was also the conclusion at which my own mind had arrived.