“Then do you mean to tell me,” he said, “that if Mr. Maidstone had been present, your disgusting wearing apparel would still have been there?”
I bowed my head.
“I cannot say,” I replied. “But it was to call his attention to them that I had placed them on the counter.”
He lowered his umbrella.
“To call his attention to them? But what has Mr. Maidstone to do with your trousers?”
“In this particular case,” I said, “a very great deal, since he was solely responsible for their condition.”
He opened his mouth.
“Mr. Maidstone?” he gasped.
“Mr. Archibald Maidstone,” I said, “your show-room manager.”
“But good God,” he said, “you don’t mean to tell me that he’s in the habit of borrowing your trousers?”