"Jumped over the hedge!" I exclaimed. "That would be a considerable jump, Coates, from the road."
"It would, sir. Maybe she scrambled up."
"She?"
Coates cleared his throat again.
"There are three sets of prints in all. First a very deep one where the party had landed, then another broken up like, where she had turned round, and the third set with the heel-marks very deep where she had sprung back over the hedge."
"She?" I shouted.
"The prints, sir," resumed Coates, unmoved, "are those of a lady's high-heeled shoes."
I sat bolt upright in bed, staring at the man and scarcely able to credit my senses. Words failed me. Whereupon:
"Will you have tea or coffee for breakfast?" inquired Coates.
"Tea or coffee be damned, Coates!" I cried. "I'm going out to look at those footprints! If you had seen what I saw last night, even your old mahogany countenance would relax for once, I assure you."