“No, Harrison, no. I would not be prepared to swear that,” Greatorex said. “In fact, I believe you’re right about the whole affair.”
“But the dress, Mr. Harrison,” Mrs. Greatorex put in. “That woman by the wood was in white. Miss Messenger was wearing a grey dress.”
“The effect of moonlight, my dear lady,” Harrison replied. “Moonlight takes the colour out of everything.” As he spoke, he got to his feet and took a turn up the room. As he had argued, the conviction of the truth of his theory had been steadily growing in his own mind. He wanted, now, to clinch the thing once and for all, eliminate the last possibility of sending in a report to the S. P. R., and lay the ghost for ever. But as he reached the end of the room, his eye fell on the tulle scarf left by Miss Messenger on the previous night, now neatly folded by the housemaid and laid on a table by the window. And he realised in an instant that the confounded thing was grey and matched the colour of Miss Messenger’s dress. Why then had that scarf also not appeared white in the moonlight? It meant nothing; no doubt he might be able to evolve some explanation, but at the present moment it might most vexatiously complicate his case. Everyone, strangely enough, had recognised that scarf. It was the one thing that had appeared to be unaltered by the unusual conditions.
Harrison was intellectually honest, but the temptation to suppress that piece of evidence was too strong for him. As he turned, he was between the table and the rest of the party, and he stretched his hand out behind him, and surreptitiously crammed the scarf into the pocket of his dinner-jacket.
But his peroration was spoilt. The enthusiasm seemed to have been suddenly drained out of him.
“Hm! hm! Well, in effect,” he said as he returned, “I submit that there is no reason whatever to seek a supernatural explanation of our experience last night. What do you all say?”
“Personally, I’m quite convinced that it was Miss Messenger we saw,” his wife replied cheerfully.
“Very probably, I should say,” Greatorex agreed.
“It certainly seems the most likely explanation,” Mrs. Greatorex added.
“And you, Lady Ulrica?” Harrison asked.