“I think I was fired by your example,” I replied after a slight pause. “Yes, it was,” I went on. “Seeing you poking about in the bathroom started a train of thought in my mind and I decided to have a nose round in here. I glanced at several things in the room, and then suddenly thought of looking under the bed.”
He showed signs of approval. “It only shows you that second thoughts often prove to be very valuable. Our decision to take another glance at the billiard room and at this bedroom has brought us a great deal of really important information. We’ve progressed.”
“Do you think so?” I queried rather gloomily, I’m afraid. “It seems to me we’re getting deeper and deeper into a kind of morass of doubt and suspicion. Each clue we pick up seems to complicate matters, and contradict the previous one.” I sat on the bed. I really meant all that I said. As far as these discoveries went we seemed to be traveling away from a solution and not towards one.
“Be of good cheer, William,” cried Anthony jocularly. “All will yet be well.”
“I don’t know that I share your optimism,” I responded—“what’s the next move?”
“I’m going to take a rather bold step,” he replied. He came and sat himself on the bed beside me. “I’m going to have another word or two with Mary.” Then he stretched his long legs out and thrust his hands deep in his trousers-pockets. “Maybe I’m running a certain risk, but in life you have to take risks—I’ll take one now.” He jumped to his feet—“Coming, Bill?” I found myself wondering what was coming next as we descended the stairs. Where were we going? I loathed the proximity of Mary to the affair at the first onset and this latest development might mean anything.
“Would you be good enough to give me a moment in the library?” asked Anthony when we found her. “Just as a ‘quid pro quo’? I gave you a few moments in the billiard room, and now I’m asking you to return the compliment.” He smiled and Mary smiled back.
“Of course, Mr. Bathurst! I’ll come now! Is it anything important?” she asked when we were settled.
“That’s a difficult question to answer, Miss Considine,” said Anthony seriously, and with an obviously deliberate choice of words. “You were pleased a short while ago to tell me certain intimate details affecting Prescott and yourself—I appreciated intensely the confidence you imposed in me—you see you’ve known me for a considerably less time than you have Bill, here.” He paused.
Mary intervened. “I don’t quite know to where all this is leading—but possibly I share, to a very humble extent, your own gift of character-reading.”