"I don't know, but not more than three minutes. Oh, less! I had only time to look hurriedly through that drawer before I heard Mr. Fletcher coming back."
"I see."
Something in his voice made her stiffen. "You don't believe me? But it's true: I can prove it's true!"
"Can you? How?"
She spread out her hands. "I wasn't wearing gloves. My finger-prints must have been on the door. Look, I'll show you!" She got up, and moved to the door, clasping the handle in her right hand, and laying her left hand on the panel above it. "You know how one eases a door open, if one's afraid of its making any noise? I remember putting my left hand on it, just like this."
"Have you any objection to having your finger-prints taken, Mrs. North?"
"No, none," she answered promptly. "I want you to have them taken. That's partly why I chose to see you here."
"Very well, but there are one or two questions I should like to ask you first."
She came back to her chair. "Why, certainly!" she said.
"You have said that Mr. Fletcher was using your IOUs against you. Does that mean that he was pressing for payment, or that he was threatening to lay them before you husband?"