Sir Allan maintained his attitude of polite attention, but he had stopped smoking, and his cigarette was burning unnoticed between his fingers.
"I scarcely see the connection yet," he said suavely. "No doubt I am a little dense. You speak about a number of private papers having been abstracted from your cabinet. Do I understand—is it possible that anything in those papers could lead people to fix upon you as the murderer of Sir Geoffrey Kynaston?"
The two men looked steadily into each other's faces. There was nothing in Sir Allan's expression beyond a slightly shocked surprise; in Mr. Brown's there was a very curious mixture indeed.
"Most certainly!" was the quiet reply. "Those letters plainly point out a motive for my having committed the crime."
"They are from——"
"Stop!"
Sir Allan started. The word had burst from Mr. Brown's lips with a passion which his former quietude rendered the more remarkable. There was a dead silence between them for fully a minute. Then Mr. Brown, having resumed his former manner, spoke again.
"Those letters," he said, "tell the story of a certain episode in the life of Sir Geoffrey Kynaston. No other person is mentioned or alluded to in them. Yet the fact of their having been found in my possession makes them strong evidence against me."
Sir Allan nodded.
"I don't know why on earth you've come to me for advice," he remarked. "I'm not a lawyer."