I had noticed it.
“I have plenty of time to think,” she added, not without pathos. “There is only one Monday night in the week, and—the days are long. It occurred to me to try to trace that bag.”
“In what way?”
“How does any one trace lost articles?” she demanded. “By advertising, of course. Last Wednesday I advertised for the bag.”
I was too astonished to speak.
“I reasoned like this: If there was no such bag, there was no harm done. As a matter of fact, if there was no such bag, the chances were that we were all wrong, anyhow. If there was such a bag, I wanted it. Here is the advertisement as I inserted it.”
She gave me a small newspaper cutting
“Lost, a handbag containing private letters, car-tickets, etc. Liberal reward paid for its return. Please write to A 31, the Daily News.”
I sat with it on my palm. It was so simple, so direct. And I, a lawyer, and presumably reasonably acute, had not thought of it!
“You are wasted on us, Mrs. Dane,” I acknowledged. “Well? I see something has come of it.”