“Yet you cannot say which of these two overcoats you put on when you left your home an hour or so after finishing your dinner?”
“I cannot. I was in no condition to notice. I was bent on going into town and, on coming downstairs, I went straight to the rack and pulled on the first things that offered.”
The prisoner stood immobile but with a deepening line gathering on his brow until the last word fell. Then he said: “I forgot. I went for the key before I put on my overcoat. I wanted to see how the sick horse looked.”
“Did you drop this key into your pocket, too?”
“No, I carried it into the hall.”
“What did you do with it there?”
“I don’t know. Put it on the table, I suppose.”
“Don’t you remember? There were other keys lying on this table. Don’t you remember what you did with the one in your hand while you took the club-house key from the midst of Mr. Ranelagh’s bunch?”
“I laid it on the table. I must have—there was no other place to put it.”
“Laid it down by itself?”