Miss Temple took it, mechanically.
"Yes," she said.
"It was found beside the murdered man's body," said the detective as he took the handkerchief from her and replaced it in his pocket.
For a moment, I thought Miss Temple was going to faint, and I instinctively moved toward her. She recovered herself at once. "What are you aiming at?" she exclaimed. "Is it possible that you suppose I had anything to do with Mr. Ashton's death?"
"I have not said so, Miss. This handkerchief was found in Mr. Ashton's room. It is possible that he had it himself, that he kept it, as a souvenir of some former meeting, although in that case it would hardly have retained the strong scent of perfume which I notice upon it. But you might have dropped it at table—he may have picked it up that very night. It is for these reasons, Miss, that I asked you when you last saw Mr. Ashton alive, and you refuse to answer me. I desire only the truth, Miss Temple. I have no desire to accuse anyone unjustly. Tell us, if you can, how the handkerchief came in Mr. Ashton's room."
At these words, delivered in an earnest and convincing manner, I saw Miss Temple's face change. She felt that the detective was right, as indeed, did I, and I waited anxiously for her next words.
"I last saw Mr. Ashton," she answered, with a faint blush, "last night about midnight."
Her answer was as much of a surprise to me as it evidently was to both Major Temple and the detective.
"Muriel," exclaimed the former, in horrified tones.
"I went to his room immediately after he retired," continued Miss Temple, with evident effort. "I wished to tell him something—something important—before the morning, when it might have been too late. I was afraid to stand in the hallway and talk to him through the open door for fear I should be seen. I went inside. I must have dropped the handkerchief at that time."