"You seem no longer to like the Englishman!"
"I have never liked him particularly, and, as I have told you earlier, his conduct frequently appeared to me to be suspicious. Yet I cannot very well account for the reason of my distrust for him. I have an idea that he played a part in the drama, which I do not comprehend. I believe your wife's instinct tells her the same."
"Instinct!" repeated Clara, witheringly. "We women must always hear, when we in some way or other hit upon a right solution, that it is our instinct which has come to our aid—never a word is said about logical deduction! Look here, Mr. Monk. What I mean to say is, that I am sure that Mr. Howell tampered with the photograph in order to ruin Sigrid. This result I arrive at from the following reasoning. If the photograph is to be relied upon, Sigrid must have had the diamond in her hand that day; but she denied this absolutely. No, don't try to avoid it, Monk! You are afraid to tell me that now I am illogical—isn't that what you call it?—like all women, and so you won't even look at me. But I haven't finished yet. Suppose Sigrid could and would tell a lie, what could have been easier for her than to admit she had that afternoon been into the museum, had taken out the diamond and looked at it for a moment, and then put it back in its place again? No one could have said a word against this explanation as to how the photograph was taken. No! Sigrid was not a fool; and you must admit that if she wanted to tell a lie, she would not do it in such a foolish way. Admit that I am right, Monk! All probabilities go to prove that Sigrid spoke the truth. She had not set foot in Mr. Frick's museum that day between five and half-past seven, and—the photograph was tampered with."
Monk could not help smiling; but it was the same smile—the hopeless smile with which the giant who has in vain attempted to lift a burden watches the dwarf endeavouring to lift it for him.
He went across to a small iron safe in the corner of the room, and came back at once with a little object which he laid on the table before us. It was a small photograph placed between glass plates, which were held together by india-rubber bands.
"This is the photograph."
Both Clara and I stretched out our hands at the same moment, and Monk laid it on the table between us, together with an oblong magnifying glass of unusual size.
"Now you can look at it for yourselves. What cannot be seen with the naked eye can be easily discerned through the magnifying glass."
Clara and I used it in turn.
"I have to thank my old friend, the chief superintendent, that I am in possession of the photograph," continued Monk.