“I took ’em off myself soon after seven o’clock!”
“Why?” asked Robin bluntly.
Mr. Manderton dropped his heavy form into a chair.
“I’m a plain man, Mr. Greve,” he said, “and I’m not above owning to it, I hope, when I’m wrong. For some little time now it has struck me that our lines of investigation run parallel ...”
“Instead of crossing!”
“Instead of crossing—exactly!”
“It’s a pity you did not grasp that very obvious fact earlier,” observed Robin pointedly.
Mr. Manderton crossed one leg over the other and, his finger-tips pressed together, looked at Robin.
“Will you help me?” he asked simply.
“Do you want my help?”