"I'd give it to you to look at, only that the Inspector warned me to be more careful with my property in future," said Stephen. "When I leave my things about, they have an odd way of transporting themselves - isn't that nicely put? - into quite different parts of the house."
"What the devil do you mean by that?" demanded Mottisfont, half-rising from his chair.
"Do you believe in poltergeists?" asked Stephen, still smiling, but not very pleasantly.
"Stephen!" Joseph said, his voice trembling with emotion. "Stephen, my boy! Does it mean that they don't suspect you after all?"
"Oh, I gather that I am wholly cleared!" Stephen replied.
It was not to be expected that Joseph would greet such news as this in a restrained manner. He bounced up out of his chair, and came round the table to clasp his nephew's hands. "I knew it all along!" he said. "Thank God, thank God! Stephen, old boy, you don't know what a weight it is off my mind! If - if the worst had happened, it would have been my fault! Oh yes, it would! I know that. My dear, dear boy, if it were not for that one great sorrow hanging over us, this would be a red-letter day indeed!"
"But I don't understand!" Paula said. "Why are you in the clear? Are you sure it isn't some kind of a trick?"
"No, there's no trick about it," he answered.
"Why should there be a trick?" Joseph said. "Can it be that you doubted Stephen's innocence? Your own brother!"
"How did it come to be in Uncle's room?" Paula asked, disregarding Joseph. "You may as well tell us, Stephen! We must all have guessed!"