“Yes,” impatiently. “Any of your belongings—wearing apparel?”
“Why, no,” the girl smiled. “I didn’t.”
“Sure?”
“Of course, I’m sure. Unless I dropped a handkerchief, maybe. I’m forever losing those.”
“You didn’t leave a fur collar?”
“Of course I didn’t! My fur collars are too valuable not to keep track of.”
“Then,” and Doctor Davenport drew from his bag a small fur neckpiece. “Then, I guess it’s my duty to show up this. It’s a thing,” he looked a bit embarrassed, “I picked up in Gleason’s room when I first went there last night. I thought it was yours, Phyllis, and I brought it to you.”
“Well, of all performances!” exclaimed Belknap, astonished.
“Oh, come now,” and Davenport smiled, “I meant to give it up sooner, but I forgot it. I only thought, if it should be Phyllis’, she’d rather know about it——”
“All right, as long as I have it now,” and Belknap reached for the fur with an air of authority. “This may be the clew that will lead us straight to the murderer—or murderess.”