“Yes, sir.”
“But it seems so extraordinary. Why, his collar buttoned at the back—I mean, he would have deceived a bishop. Do you really think he was Soapy Sid?”
“Yes, sir. I recognised him directly he came into the room.”
I stared at the blighter.
“You recognised him?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Then, dash it all,” I said, deeply moved, “I think you might have told me.”
“I thought it would save disturbance and unpleasantness if I merely abstracted the case from the man’s pocket as I assisted him with his coat, sir. Here it is.”
He laid another case on the table beside the dud one, and, by Jove, you couldn’t tell them apart. I opened it and there were the good old pearls, as merry and bright as dammit, smiling up at me. I gazed feebly at the man. I was feeling a bit overwrought.
“Jeeves,” I said. “You’re an absolute genius!”