"God, I can see the pit yawning at my feet! You could get the answer to that one out of my aunt, or Simmons, couldn't you? Black tie, Superintendent. Rather a nice one, too. Even my aunt was pleased."
"Did you wear an overcoat?"
"What, in the middle of June? No, of course not."
"Hat?"
"Yes."
"What sort of a hat?"
"A black felt hat."
"What, that thing?" exclaimed Sally.
"It's a very good hat. Besides, I haven't got another."
"Forgive the interruption," said Sally to Hannasyde, "but if you are trying, as I gather you are, to convict Mr. Fletcher of having murdered his uncle, do you mind telling me how you account for the man Malachi saw leaving Greystones at 10.02?"