“It doesn’t seem in the least like him,” returned Mrs. Dunlee.
But she had grown quite pale, and was going toward the study when her husband entered the dining-room. He had overheard part of the conversation, and looked as amazed and distressed as his wife.
“Why, my dear,” said he, “it is incredible!”
“So it is, James. The boy is too old to do such a thing; he has too much conscience. But the question is, who took the cake? It could not have gone without hands.”
“I see, I see, Prudy. And the doors were all well fastened, and you and I sitting there in the study.”
“And the house so still,” added Mrs. Dunlee. “You know we spoke two or three times of the stillness.”
Mr. Dunlee paced the floor in deep thought.
“There must be a way out of this,” he said.
“The cat, you know,” suggested Edith.