"Course I will, aunty," said the girl, "when the job's done."
"And now, Sophy," I said "if you will come upstairs with me we will have a little chat. Then you can decide."
"I've decided already," said Sophy, and she followed me to the sitting-room which had been occupied by M. Felix.
Everything apparently was the same as on the night of the disappearance of M. Felix's body. I was aware of only one article which was missing after Dr. Peterssen's visit to the house, and that was the revolver which M. Felix kept under his pillow. I had no doubt in my mind that Dr. Peterssen had taken advantage of his being alone in the house, on the occasion of Mrs. Middlemore's unnecessary visit to the Bow Street Police Station, to appropriate other articles, but only the revolver and the desk--which he had taken away on the night of his interview with M. Felix--were within my knowledge. It is true that even this knowledge was gained by means of circumstantial evidence which would scarcely have been admitted in a court of law, but I was quite satisfied on the point, and I had the strongest moral conviction that time would prove the correctness of my conclusions.
"Sit down, Sophy," I said, "and think of nothing else but what I am about to say to you."
"I'm a-doing of it," said Sophy, with a look of absolute concentration that strengthened my confidence in her, and spoke volumes in favor of her being, as she hoped, somebody one day.
"You remember the day on which your aunt was sent to Bow Street Police Court by a man whom she left in the house alone?"
"Yes, I do."
"You said you saw the man. Would you know him again?"
"I'd swear to 'im."