"I did," Celia replied. "Wedged between the bristles of my hair-brush. That was after you'd had the waste up in the bath, and two of the floor-boards in our room."
"That wasn't the time I meant," said Charles hastily.
Celia wrinkled her brow. "The only other time I lost it was at that hotel in Edinburgh, and then you stepped on it getting out of bed. If that's what you mean…'
"Well, wasn't that finding it?" demanded Charles. "Guided by a rare intuition, I rose from my couch, and straightway put my - er - foot on the thing."
"You did. But that wasn't quite how you phrased it at the time," said Celia. "If I remember rightly…'
"You needn't go on," Charles told her. "When it comes to recounting incidents in which I played a prominent part you never do remember rightly. To put it bluntly, for gross misrepresentation of fact you're hard to beat."
"Time!" called Peter. "Let's put it to the vote. Who is for calling in the police, or who is not? Margaret, you've got the casting vote. What do you say?"
She hesitated. "I think I rather agree with Celia. You both suspect Mr. Strange. Well, I'm sure you're wrong. Let the police take over before you go and make fools of yourselves." She added apologetically: "I don't mean to be rude about it, but…'
"I'm glad to know that," said Charles. "I mean, we might easily have misunderstood you. But what a field of conjecture this opens out! I shall always wonder what you'd have said if you had meant to be rude."
"Well, you'll know in a minute," retorted Margaret. "And it's no good blinking facts: once you and Peter get an idea into your heads, nothing on God's earth will get it out again. You will make fools of yourselves if you go sleuthing after the unfortunate Mr. Strange. If he is at the root of it the police'll find him out, and if he isn't they'll find that out weeks before you would."