Anthony coloured slightly. “Well,” he began, “I⸺”
“Enough!” Roger interrupted kindly. “You haven’t taken it back yet, therefore you’re proposing to use it again. Well, the country looks very charming by moonlight, I’m told. Bon voyage!— Oh, Inspector!”
Inspector Moresby paused, his hand on the door-knob. “Yes, sir?”
“Did you find anything out about that shoe, by the way?”
Inspector Moresby continued to pause. “Do you expect me to tell you that, Mr. Sheringham, when you’re withholding your own information?”
“A promise,” said Roger smugly, “is a promise, Inspector.”
“Well, and I can’t say it wasn’t made in return for services rendered. Very well, sir, I’ll return good for evil. I traced that pair of shoes (we found the other one all right, I should say).”
“Traced it, did you?” said Roger with interest. “Do you mean, found out whom it belonged to?”
“Just that. The inner soles, with the name of the maker, had been torn out, but it wasn’t a difficult job. The servant-girl recognised ’em at once, and the mistress admitted to ’em without hesitation.”
“Stop this cat-and-mouse act!” Roger implored. “Whose were they?”