I have been informed
that even if these letters are no longer in existence she can give the
police a good idea of what was in them."
The telephone bell in the corner of the room rang suddenly. Mademoiselle
Chiron ran to answer it, and accidentally dropped her handkerchief on the
floor in picking up the receiver.
Mademoiselle Chiron began speaking on the telephone, but she stopped
suddenly, staring with frightened eyes into the mirror at the other side
of the room. The glass reflected the actions of Rolfe at the table.
Seated with his back towards her, he had taken advantage of her being
called to the telephone to examine her handkerchief, which he had picked
up from the floor. He had produced from his pocketbook the scrap of lace
and muslin which he had found in the murdered man's hand. He had the two
on the table side by side comparing them, and Mademoiselle Chiron noticed
a smile of satisfaction flit across his face as he did so. While she
looked he restored the scrap to his pocket-book, and the pocket-book to
his pocket. Hastily she turned to the telephone again and continued, in a
voice which a quick ear would have detected was slightly hysterical.
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