At times he used to say, "I must really take that cigar-case to Scotland
Yard to-morrow."
At other times he would say, "Somebody must really take that cigar-case to Scotland Yard to-day."
And so the weeks rolled on….
It was about a year later that I first got mixed up with the thing. I must have dined with the Andrews several times without noticing the cigar-case, but on this occasion it caught my eye as we wandered out to join the ladies, and I picked it up carelessly. Well, not exactly carelessly; it was too heavy for that.
"Why didn't you tell me," I said, "that you had stood for Parliament and that your supporters had consoled you with a large piece of plate? Hallo, they've put the wrong initials on it. How unbusiness-like."
"Oh, that?" said Andrew. "Is it still there?"
"Why not? It's quite a solid little table. But you haven't explained why your constituents, who must have seen your name on hundreds of posters, thought your initials were E.M.W."
Andrew explained.
"Then it isn't yours at all?" I said in amazement.
"Of course not."