"Oh, if you want money, again I refer you to the fan."
The Major was getting angry. He didn't very much care if Miss Pewsey did bring an action at the moment, though with saner thoughts he would have been horrified at the idea. "I apologise," said he again, "but I was misled by Dr. Forge."
"How were you misled by me?" demanded Forge impassively.
"You said you had the fan in your cabinet, and that it had been stolen. Mrs. Bressy swore she did not take it, and I thought--"
"That I was the thief," cried Miss Pewsey shrilly, "oh how clever of you--how very, very clever. You thought that I got the key from the watch-chain of Dr. Forge where he always carries it, to open the cabinet and steal a fan, I knew nothing about it. I never even knew of the existence of the fan--there Judas," snapped the lady once more.
"Then I was mistaken, and Dr. Forge was mistaken also."
"I confess that I did make a mistake," said the doctor with a sad face, "but that does not excuse your libelling the lady I hope to call my wife. My memory is not so good as it was, and I fear that the drugs I take to induce sleep have impaired what memory I have left. I suffer from neuralgia," added the doctor turning to Miss Pewsey, "and in China I contracted the habit of opium smoking, so--"
"Marriage will put that right," said the lady patting his hand. "I do not expect a perfect husband--"
"I never knew you expected a husband at all," said Tidman injudiciously.
"Ho," cried Miss Pewsey drawing herself up. She had been standing all the time, "another libel. I call Dr. Forge to witness it."