“I suppose so, sir. I never saw him come out.”
“Did anyone enter the room while Mr. Carling was there?”
“No, sir, only Sir Robert and my lady.”
“Who relieved you when you went off duty?”
“Mr. Thomson was in the hall, sir; he was going to wait up for Sir Robert and my lady. Mr. Jenkins, the butler, and some of the others had the evening off, as the family dined out.”
“Just so. Will you send Mr. Thomson here?”
In the interval Snell turned to Sir Robert, who had evinced no special interest in the brief colloquy; doubtless he had questioned the man to the same purpose already.
“I suppose Lady Rawson is already aware of the loss of these papers, Sir Robert?”
The query was uttered lightly, as if it was of no importance or significance, but was accompanied by a keen glance at Sir Robert’s harassed yet inscrutable face—a glance which again the financier did not meet. He laid down the paper-knife before he answered, in a tone as apparently careless as the detective’s had been.
“No. I should have told her, of course, when we came to the conclusion that they were really lost, but she had already gone out. I was to have joined her after lunch, and gone on to Carling’s wedding. She will be there now,” he added, glancing at the clock on his writing-table.