“It was after dark when he came, wasn’t it?”
“Yes; but the hall was lighted and I saw him clearly. But a man may have two hats, I suppose.”
“I haven’t,” said Barry, shortly. “That is, I haven’t two hats that I wear in the afternoon. This is the only soft felt I possess.”
The hat he wore was of a medium shade of gray, an inconspicuous soft hat of the latest, but in no way, extreme fashion.
“That’s nothing,” Prescott said. “A man can buy and give away a lot of hats in a week. Size him up carefully, Miss Adams; your opinion may mean a lot. Never mind the hat. How does Mr Barry’s size and shape compare with the man you saw?”
“Mr Barry is a heavier man,” the lady said, decidedly; “also I feel sure, an older man. The man I saw was slighter and younger.”
“Did you see his face?”
“No.”
“Yet you’re sure he was younger?”
“Yes, I am. He was of slighter build, and a little taller, and he walked with a jauntier step, almost a run, as he came up the stairs.”