“We can settle it later, Evelyn,” he said. “Now, don’t let us squabble over a trifle.”
“A trifle!” Evelyn laughed gayly. “I don’t call a three hour taxi bill a trifle; however, we’ll let Mother arbitrate the dispute. What is it?” as the chauffeur ran up to her.
“Another package, Miss,” and touching his hat he placed the bundle of papers on top of the packages she carried and retired.
“Take care, you will drop them,” cautioned Maynard, putting a steadying hand on the packages. He had just succeeded in readjusting their balance when his sleeve button caught in a string, and as he drew back his hand several papers from the package entrusted to her care by La Montagne fluttered to the ground.
“Very awkward of me,” exclaimed Maynard, annoyed by his carelessness, and he stooped to pick up the papers and returned them to Evelyn. Then his hand sought the door bell and Evelyn, her eyes following his motion, saw the string still dangling from his sleeve button. The string, of woven red and green strands, stood out in bold relief against the white woodwork of the doorway.
Where had she seen such a string before? Slowly Evelyn’s thoughts returned to the scene in the library on Tuesday afternoon, and again she saw a similar string removed from the dead man’s pocket and twirled about in the coroner’s fingers.
Maynard’s glance had followed hers; his finger pressed the button of the door bell hard, then was removed as he held up his hand.
“From which bundle did I pull off this string?” he asked.
Evelyn looked at the packages in her hand in uncertainty; Marian’s bundle of papers was untied, a box of candy, and some stationery were also minus their strings due to the careless handling they had received while she carried them about with her on her shopping tour.
“I really don’t know,” she replied. “Oh, Jones,” as that worthy opened the front door. “Do get me something to eat, I am famished.”