He offered it delicately to Audrey.
It was the key of the safe.
“Did they find it in the ditch?” Audrey demanded, blushing, for she knew that the key had not been found in the ditch; she knew by a certain indentation on it that it was the duplicate key which she herself had mislaid.
“No,” said Mr. Cowl. “I found it myself, and not in the ditch. I remembered you had said that you had changed at the dressmaker’s in the village and had left there an old frock.”
“Did I?” murmured Audrey, with a deeper blush.
Mr. Cowl nodded.
“I had the happy idea that you might have had the key and left it in the pocket of the frock. So I trotted down to the dressmaker’s and asked for the frock, in your name, and lo! the result!”
He pointed to the key lying in Audrey’s long hand.
“But how should I have had the key, Mr. Cowl? Why should I have had the key?” Audrey burst out like a simpleton.
“That, Miss Moze,” said he, with a peculiar grin and in an equally peculiar tone, “is a matter about which obviously you are better informed than I am. Shall we try the key?”