“It’s real good of you, signora, to admit me at this unholy hour, and I’ll not keep you any time,” he began diplomatically. “First, I want that cigarette case that Mr. Roger Carling lost on your lobby this morning. The porter says he gave it to you.”
“The leetle case? But I have it not! I gave it to the officer of police—he who came to-day, saying he was of the police, though he wore no uniform; he was like yourself, signor,” she stammered.
Starr’s heart sank. The moment he had heard of that cigarette case he determined to get possession of it, and if possible prevent any knowledge of it reaching the police, though again he did not attempt to analyse his motive.
“I have done wrong in giving it him?” Giulia continued uneasily.
“Not a bit of it, signora—that’s all right,” Starr answered, with a cheerfulness he was very far from feeling. “I haven’t seen Mr. Snell since or he’d have told me you had it. I guess you’ve told him about everything else too, but I’ll have to trouble you to tell me also. The maestro left home as usual to go to his class at Blackheath. What time did he go out?”
“At a leetle after nine, signor.”
“You’re sure he was going to Blackheath?”
“Ah, yes, signor. Vere else would he go?”
“When did Lady Rawson come?”
“In a ver’ leetle time after the maestro go. He could scarce have reach the stazione.”