She looked up at Bill. He took her hand and patted it.
"You poor dear," he said. "How rotten for you."
"Silly idiot," thought Bundle.
Superintendent Battle had moved on swift, noiseless feet over to the bookcase a little to the right of the screen. He bent down, searching. Presently he stooped and picked something up.
"It wasn't a bullet, Countess," he said. "It's the shell of the cartridge. Where were you standing when you fired, Mr. Thesiger?"
Jimmy took up a position by the window.
"As nearly as I can say, about here."
Superintendent Battle placed himself in the same spot.
"That's right," he agreed. "The empty shell would throw right rear. It's a .455. I don't wonder the Countess thought it was a bullet in the dark. It hit the bookcase about a foot from her. The bullet itself grazed the window frame and we'll find it outside to-morrow—unless your assailant happens to be carrying it about in him."
Jimmy shook his head regretfully.