CHAPTER XV
[A RECOGNITION]
If Mrs. Ward expected to startle Derrington into a confession she was never more mistaken in her calculations. Lord Derrington had not moved in diplomatic circles all his life without knowing how to guard against the display of emotion. With an utterly expressionless face he looked at the stiletto. It was a slender steel blade with a silver handle of Renaissance workmanship, evidently a valuable and curious relic of the Middle Ages. It might have been made by Cellini himself and have been worn by Cesare Borgia. But Derrington stared at it as though he knew nothing about it.
"Well," said Mrs. Ward, sharply, and rather disappointed he did not grovel on the instant, "what do you say?"
Derrington looked at her in rather a humorous manner. "What do you want me to say?" he asked. "Confess that I killed Mrs. Jersey and then brought this weapon carefully home in my pocket for you to discover and use against me?"
"That is a subterfuge," said Mrs. Ward. "You did not expect to find me waiting for you, and you never meant that dagger to be discovered, Lord Derrington."
"I certainly never did," he assented heartily. "I cannot imagine how you came to know more than I did."
"What do you mean?" asked the little woman, sharply.
"Well, you see," said Lord Derrington, quietly, "this is a very clever bit of business on your part, but so far as I am concerned it has nothing to do with me. I never saw that weapon before."
"Oh, that's rubbish!" said Mrs. Ward with a mirthless laugh. "I found it in the pocket of your fur coat on the very----"