"Yes, quite right; and then?"
"Then the photograph showed the time to be twenty-one minutes to six; and at the time, it was proved that Evelina was at her mother's."
"Quite so; but in the photograph, as you and your wife have shown me, a feather appears on the right side of the hat, although it should appear on the left, and the Venus de Milo has an arm on the side where there should be none—but no arm where there ought to be one. If, then, the person in the photograph in the same way has also her left arm where her right should be, and vice versa, then the great point raised by the prosecution falls to the ground. Isn't that so? It is her right-hand finger which bears the ring."
"Yes, you are right; but the time? The clock in the elephant's forehead?"
Instead of answering, Monk went over to a little alarm clock which stood on the writing table.
He first set to work to move the hands, carefully shielding the dial from us; then he signed to us to follow him, and he led the way over to a long mirror at the other end of the room. He placed Clara and me in front of the mirror, he himself standing behind us, holding up the clock.
"Look in the mirror now, and tell me what the time is."
"Twenty-one minutes to six," answered Clara and I at the same moment.
"Now turn round and look at the clock—well, what do you say now? It is twenty-one minutes past six, isn't it?"
It was now Clara's and my turn to make our deductions. "You mean, then, that the picture is altogether a fraud? It is just as if everything had been turned about, so that left becomes right and right becomes wrong."