'He told you about it, then, did he?'
The flattish face was a polite mask of deprecation. `You know he didn't. But Bitton is like a child, if I may say so. I have heard him let fall enough mysterious hints at the dinner table for even his family to guess the nature of his find. However, I knew all about the manuscript before I left the States.'
He chuckled. It was the first human, sound Rampole had heard out of him.
`I dislike commenting on the infantile nature of some of these gentlemen, but I fear Doctor Robertson, who had been Bitton's confidant, was indiscreet'
Dr Fell thoughtfully took the handle of his stick, which was lying across the desk, and poked at the crossbow bolt. Then he glanced up amiably.
`Mr Arbor, would you have stolen that manuscript, if you were given the opportunity?'
Across the room Rampole saw the despairing expression on Hadley's face. But Arbor was not in the least perturbed.
'No, Inspector, I don't think I would,' he replied. `It would entail so much awkwardness, you see. And I dislike violating hospitality in that fashion. Don't misunderstand me. I have no moral scruples, and it might seriously be questioned as to whether Bitton has any right to it at all.'
`But suppose somebody offered to sell you that manuscript, Mr Arbor?'
Arbor took off his delicate eyeglasses and polished them with a white silk handkerchief. He was easy, smug, and half smiling now. The black eyebrows were wrinkled with amusement.