"Well, I'm glad to know you draw the line somewhere," said Hemingway. "And don't you run away with the notion that I'm not pleased with this theory of yours! I've always told you that you haven't got enough imagination, so it's very gratifying to me to see you taking my words to heart, which is a thing I never thought you did. And if it weren't for all the circumstances you've overlooked, it would be a good theory."
The Sergeant said in a resigned voice: "I know there are some loose ends, but -"
"Who set the ladder up to be handy?"
"Either of them."
"When?"
"Any time," said the Sergeant, adding after a moment's reflection: "No, perhaps not any time. As soon as it was dark."
"Have you ever tried to set a ladder up against a particular window in the dark?"
"No, sir, I haven't; but if there was a light in that particular window I'd back myself to do it," retorted the Sergeant.
"You win," said Hemingway handsomely. "I'll give you the ladder. And if you can tell me how Ford managed to be in his master's room and flirting with one of the housemaids at one and the same time, I'll go straight off and arrest him."
"The way I see it, the murder had been committed by the time he came up the backstairs, and went into the sewing-room."