"Just for a moment on the table. But surely my uncle would not—"
"One moment, please. Was anybody with your uncle at the time?"
Ruth gave a sudden little cry.
"How senseless of me to forget," she cried. "My uncle was down merely for the day, and, as he was very busy, he sent for Mr. Reginald Henson to help him. I did not imagine that Mr. Henson would know anything. But even now I cannot see what—"
"Again let me interrupt you. Did you leave the room at all?"
"Yes. It is all coming back to me now. My uncle's medicine was locked up in my bag. He asked me to go for it and I went, leaving my purchase on the table. It is all coming back to me now…. When I returned Mr. Henson was quite alone, as somebody had called to see my uncle. Mr. Henson seemed surprised to see me back so soon, and as I entered he crushed something up in his hand and dropped it into the waste-paper basket. But my parcel was quite intact."
"Yellow wax and yellow string and all?"
"Yes, so far as I remember. It was Mr. Henson who reminded my uncle about his medicine."
"And when you were away the change was made. Strange that your uncle should be so friendly with both Henson and Bell. Have they ever met under your roof?"
"No," Ruth replied. "Henson has always alluded to Dr. Bell as a lost man.
He professes to be deeply sorry for him but he has declined to meet him.
Where are you going?"