“I didn’t lose it there,” replied Sir Roland firmly. “Naturally went there first.”
Lethbridge shrugged. “How very unfortunate! I fear you must have dropped it in the street.”
“Not in the street, no. Remember having it on just before I came here.”
“Dear me!” said Lethbridge. “What makes you remember so particularly?”
Sir Roland took a moment to think this out. “Remember it because Pel said: “That’s a queer tie-pin, Pom.” And I said: “Belonged to my great-aunt.” Then we came here. Must have had it on then.”
“It would certainly seem so. But perhaps you lost it after you left my house. Or do you remember that Winwood then said: “Where’s your tie-pin?” “
“That’s it,” said Sir Roland, grateful for the assistance. “Pel said: “Why, what’s become of your tie-pin, Pom?” Didn’t come back—time getting on, you know. Knew it would be safe here!”
Lethbridge shook his head. “I fear your recollection is not very clear, Pommeroy. I have not got your brooch.”
There was nothing for Sir Roland to do after that but to take his leave. Lord Lethbridge escorted him out into the hall, and sweetly bade him farewell. “And do pray advise me if you succeed in finding the brooch,” he said with great civility. He watched his crestfallen visitor go off down the steps, and transferred his gaze to the porter’s face. “Send Moxton to me,” he said, and went back into the saloon.
In a few moments his butler appeared. “My lord?”