"The paper referred to in that unfinished scrap of writing which was discovered behind the safe," explained Paul. "Norman evidently wrote it out, and placed it in his pocket, where he forgot it. Deborah found it in an old coat, she discovered in a box of clothes brought from Gwynne Street. They were Norman's clothes and his box, and should have been left behind."
"Debby won't hear of that," said Sylvia, laughing. "She says Mrs. Krill has got quite enough, and she took all she could."
"What's all this writing about?" asked Hurd, turning over the closely-written sheets. "To save time you had better give me a précis of the matter. Is it important?"
"Very I should say," responded Paul, emphatically. "It contains an account of Norman's life from the time he left Christchurch."
"Hum." Hurd's eyes brightened. "I'll read it at my leisure, but at the present moment you might say what you can."
"Well, you know a good deal of it," said Paul, who did the talking at a sign from Sylvia. "It seems that Norman—we'd better stick to the old name—left Christchurch because he was afraid of being accused of murdering Lady Rachel."
"Was she really murdered?"
"Norman doesn't say. He swears he knows nothing about the matter. The first intimation he had was when Jessop came down with the news after blundering into the wrong bedroom. But he hints that Mrs. Krill killed her."
"Can he prove that?"
"No. He can't give any proof, or, at all events, he doesn't. He declares that when his wife and daughter—"