"It's a pity there are not a few hours more of daylight," said he. "For my experience has shown me that most cases, in which there is any doubt, do not stand delay. A few hours sometimes dims what otherwise would be hopeful clues; traces which, had they been taken up in time, might have led directly to the criminal, are rendered cold and useless."
"Couldn't something be done out at Stanwick to-night?" asked Bat, anxiously.
But the criminologist shook his head.
"It would be impossible," said he. "Night always puts any sort of intelligent examination out of the question. But," and he looked at Nora with an alertness of manner which showed how his keen mind was already taking hold, "the time between now and daylight need not be altogether lost."
"What can we do?" she asked, eagerly.
"Sometimes even the smallest scrap of information is of great value," said he. "The movements—the conversation of a suspect—or a victim—immediately before the crime, has more than once provided the thing necessary to a successful solution."
"Why, yes, that would be true, of course." But the eagerness had gone out of her manner suddenly; her hands seemed to flutter at her breast. "Small, seemingly unimportant things, even in my work, add greatly to a result."
The keen eyes of Ashton-Kirk never left her face.
"About what time was it last night that your husband came here?" he asked.
"It must have been between eleven-thirty and twelve o'clock," she replied, slowly. "I had just got home from the theatre."