"As to that, sir, I could not take it upon myself to say."
"Well, all right! you can go," Stephen said irritably.
Sturry bowed. "Very good, sir. And perhaps I should mention that I have reason to believe that the Inspector Abstracted one of the foreign daggers from this room, and took it away with him before lunch."
Having delivered himself of this piece of news, he waited to see what the effect of it would be. On the whole, it was disappointing, for although Stephen glanced quickly up at the wall above the fireplace, he made no remark. Mathilda too said nothing, but she did give a faint shudder. Sturry was obliged to be satisfied with this. He withdrew to his own domain, there to regale the more favoured amongst his colleagues with a highly coloured and wholly fictitious account of Mr. Stephen's reactions to his disclosure.
For a minute or two after he had left the room, neither Stephen nor Mathilda spoke. Stephen seemed to be intent only on the game. He finished his break, rather sooner than Mathilda had expected, for he was a good player, leaving her an easy shot.
"Curious that it should be so beastly to know the actual weapon," she said lightly. "I suppose we ought to have suspected those daggers."
He made no reply. She saw that the lowering look had descended on his brow again, and found herself once more wishing that she could fathom the workings of his queer, secluded mind. She said abruptly: "Who picked up your cigarette-case?"
"I've no idea."
"I know Valerie had it, but no one could suspect her of having gone into Nat's room, much less of having stabbed him. And the more I think of it the more incredible it seems that anyone else should have taken the thing upstairs."
"Uncle Nat himself," he suggested.