"And you didn't report it?" Grant's voice was stern.
"No." Hers quavered just a little, and then went on equably. "You see, I didn't believe he had done it. And I really do like you a lot. I thought it would be better for you if he could be proved innocent before he was really arrested. Then you wouldn't have to set him free again. The papers would be awful about that."
There was a stunned silence for a moment.
Then Grant said, "And on Wednesday Tisdall told you to look for this." He held forward the burned piece, while the others crowded from their places to inspect.
"No sign of a replaced button," Meir observed. "Do you think it's the coat?"
"It may be. We can't try it on Tisdall, but perhaps Mrs. Pitts may be able to identify it."
"But — but," stammered the Colonel — "if it is the coat do you realize what it means?"
"Completely. It means beginning all over again."
His tired eyes, cold with disappointment, met Erica's kind gray ones, but he refused their sympathy. It was too early to think of Erica as his possible savior. At the moment she was just someone who had thrown a wrench into the machinery.
"I shall have to get back," he said. "May I use your telephone?"