“Is this yours?”
Isabelle glanced at it, then stared from one detective to the other.
“It—it’s one of mine,” she stammered. “Where did you find it?”
“We found it in the hall back there, Miss Harrison.”
To their surprise, she looked relieved.
“Oh, yes! I must have dropped it on my way into the house tonight.”
“Then you had it this afternoon?” He held it closer so that she could see it in detail.
“Yes, that’s the one I had today.”
“Why,” inquired Bernard in slow, lugubrious tones, “were you frightened when we first showed it to you? Be careful, Miss Harrison! Only the truth will serve you now!”