"Sudley," said I, throwing down the newspaper I had been ostensibly reading. "You remember that little business you did for me in Main Street last month? Something I've been reading made me think of it again."
"Yes, sir."
"Have you never had a conviction yourself as to which of the three ladies you saw go into the parlor took the letter I left hid in the Bible?"
"No, sir. You see, I could not. All of them are well known in society here and all of them belong to the most respectable families. I wouldn't dare to choose between them, sir."
"Certainly not," I rejoined, "unless you had some good reason for doing so, such as having been able to account for the visits of two of the ladies to the hotel and not of the third."
"They all had good pretexts for being there. Mrs. Couldock gave her card to the boy before going into the parlor and left as soon as he returned with word that the lady she called to see was not in. Miss Dawes gave no card but asked for a Miss Terhune, I think, and did not remain a moment after she was informed that that lady had left the hotel."
"And Mrs. Walworth?"
"She came in from the street adjusting her veil, and upon looking around for a mirror, was directed to the parlor, into which she at once stepped. She remained there but a moment and when she came out passed directly into the street."
These words disconcerted me; the mirror was just over the table in the small room, but I managed to remark nonchalantly:
"Could you not tell whether any of these ladies opened the Bible?"