“It was open when I arrived, Sir Charles, but I was later on the scene than you gentlemen.
“Now, Marshall,” he continued, “after you saw Mr. Prescott’s body—what did you do? Did you go and touch it at all—take hold of the dagger—inquisitive-like—h’m?”
“Touch it!” she gasped. And then again as though she hadn’t heard him properly—“touch it? Lord love yer”—she relapsed from her acquired manners—“I wouldn’t ’ave gorn near it for a thousand quid. Touch it!”
“Well, what did you do?”
“I screamed. And then got up against the wall to support myself—I come over so queer.”
“And then?”
“Then all the gentlemen rushed down, and the master told me to clear off.”
Baddeley addressed Sir Charles.
“This dagger, Sir Charles, that was used by the murderer ... I understood, when I was upstairs, that it is your property?”
“It has been in my family for two hundred years. Came originally from Venice and lies on the curio table in the drawing-room. It was in the drawing-room last night.”