Mrs. Harmon eyed him suspiciously, but he gave her his best smile, which would have melted a harder heart than hers, and hoisting herself to her feet she led the way up the stairs to Cora Manning's room.
It was a small room but nicely furnished and very dainty, as befitted the bedroom of a refined young woman, but McKelvie hardly looked at it. He opened a handkerchief box on the dresser and when Mrs. Harmon had her back turned he slipped something into his pocket.
"Thank you, Mrs. Harmon, you have been most kind," he said, as we left the room.
"Not at all. I guess you can find your way out. It's kind of hard for me, climbing stairs so much. Give the door a bang and it'll lock itself," she returned, and we followed directions while she watched our departure from the head of the stairs.
"Well?" I said, as we descended the steps.
"It's hers. Look!" He removed from his pocket the article he had taken from Cora Manning's room and held it out on his palm. It was a tiny yellow satin sachet bag embroidered in blue!
"This is getting ridiculous," I said, as we took our places in the car. "How many more of these blooming things are we likely to run across anyway? That's the third one I've seen."
"Third? I have knowledge of only two, this one and Lee's, and it's not difficult to conjecture where he got his," McKelvie said, with raised brows, as he repocketed the bag.
I told him of my discovery that Dick possessed one of these sachets also, adding, "It's identical with this one. Do you suppose she gave it to him?"
"Richard Trenton," he mused, glancing at his watch. "We'll just have time before dinner. Take me up to Riverside Drive, if you will be so kind. I want another look at that secret room."