"Yes. It would not be the first instance of the kind. Fingers have been severed from dead hands—and even from living ones—for the sake of rings that were too tight to be drawn off. And the fact that it is the left hand supports this suggestion; for a ring that was inconveniently tight would be worn by preference on the left hand, as that is usually slightly smaller than the right. What is the matter, Berkeley?"
A sudden light had burst upon me, and I suppose my countenance betrayed the fact.
"I am a confounded fool!" I exclaimed.
"Oh, don't say that," said Jervis. "Give your friends a chance."
"I ought to have seen this long ago and told you about it. John Bellingham did wear a ring, and it was so tight that, when once he had got it on, he could never get it off again."
"Do you happen to know on which hand he wore it?" Thorndyke asked.
"Yes. It was the left hand; because Miss Bellingham, who told me about it, said that he would never have been able to get the ring on at all but for the fact that his left hand was slightly smaller than his right."
"There it is, then," said Thorndyke. "With this new fact in our possession, the absence of this finger furnishes the starting-point of some very curious speculations."
"As, for instance?" said Jervis.
"Ah, under the circumstances, I must leave you to pursue those speculations independently. I am now acting for Mr. Bellingham."