“We can assume the first,” said she. “I know for a fact that you took the articles in question from the cab, which you found deserted before a vacant lot.”
“How do you know it?” Harleston asked.
“Because, as I told you over the telephone, you were seen—in fact, I saw you. I saw you light a match inside the cab, come out with the envelope, look it over quickly, and put it in your pocket. You’ll admit these facts?”
“I am advised by my counsel that I’m not obliged to answer!” he laughed.
“On the ground that it will incriminate you?” she asked quickly. “Isn’t that tantamount to admitting the fact?”
“That is a matter of argument, it seems to me.”
She smiled good naturedly and went on:
“As to your second contingency, Mr. Harleston; the envelope and its contents were left with me for delivery to another party—which I believe gives me the right of possession, as you term it. At any rate, it gives me a better title than yours.”
“If the party who left them with you had a good title,” he amended. “If, however, he obtained them from—a deserted cab, say—then his title would be no better than you’ve put in me; not so good, in fact, for according to your tale I have the envelope.”
She shrugged again.