So ended the first day of suspense.
I regret to say that my last act that day was one of petty larceny!
During our talk about Mary I had held the photograph in my hand, looking at it occasionally, and occasionally laying it down on my knee. When Jack rose and proposed turning in for the night he gathered together the other papers he had taken from his pocket and replaced them. But, strangely enough, he forgot to look for the photograph, or else supposed it was with the other papers.
It wasn’t, for it lay under my hand all the while, and presently, when his back was turned, it lay in my pocket.
Later on, when the lights were out and all was quiet, it lay under my pillow for greater security!
No wonder the reader is shocked! If ever there was a clear case of purloining this was. I know it, dear reader. I knew it at the time, and yet I did it.
For I had a motive, which perhaps the reader can guess.
The picture which had lain first under my hand, then in my pocket, then under my pillow, experienced yet another change of situation that night.
Just as the first streak of dawn struggled through the window I heard a door close and a footstep in the room below. Mr Smith had come home.
Lightly and silently I crept from my bed, and with my treasure in my hand sped down the stairs and slipped into his room.