"You think that Walter gave it to you?"
"Yes, in fact I feel sure he did, and so does my niece."
"Walter is your nephew, Walter Hornby?"
"Yes, of course. I thought you knew."
"Can you recall the occasion on which the 'Thumbograph' was given to you?"
"Oh yes, quite distinctly. We had some people to dinner—some people named Colley—not the Dorsetshire Colleys, you know, although they are exceedingly nice people, as I have no doubt the other Colleys are, too, when you know them, but we don't. Well, after dinner we were a little dull and rather at a loss, because Juliet, my niece, you know, had cut her finger and couldn't play the piano excepting with the left hand, and that is so monotonous as well as fatiguing, and the Colleys are not musical, excepting Adolphus, who plays the trombone, but he hadn't got it with him, and then, fortunately, Walter came in and brought the 'Thumbograph' and took all our thumb-prints and his own as well, and we were very much amused, and Matilda Colley—that is the eldest daughter but one—said that Reuben jogged her elbow, but that was only an excuse—"
"Exactly," interrupted Anstey. "And you recollect quite clearly that your nephew Walter gave you the 'Thumbograph' on that occasion?"
"Oh, distinctly; though, you know, he is really my husband's nephew—"
"Yes. And you are sure that he took the thumb-prints?"
"Quite sure."