“Not that I noted, sir; but he had pockets in his gown large enough to hold them and they might have been in one of these.”
“Never mind the might have beens; just the plain answer, Mr. Clarke.”
“Yes, sir. Excuse me, sir. Feeling afraid that he would get very tired sitting up so long, I hurried downstairs, found Mr. Quenton, as we call him, in the library and brought him straight up. Then I went back to Wealthy.”
“Is there a clock in the cozy corner?”
“There is, sir.”
“Did you look at it as you came and went?”
“I did this time.”
“Why this time?”
“First, because I was anxious for Mr. Bartholomew not to tire himself too much and—and—”
“Go on; we want the whole truth, Mr. Clarke.”