Wolfe. Well, why did you leave it there?
Jarvis. I thought it was his own—and that, anyhow, as long as we each had one, no one would notice. But his was an india-rubber one!
Wolfe. And that's the one you've got now? Well, burn it.
Jarvis (burying his face in his hands). It isn't! I cannot! I gave it to Miss Bullivant. (Grimly) But I shall get it back again.
Curtain.
Act IV.—The Sleuth-hound's Triumph.
The Library again.
Grumpy. Well, Virginia, and how's Ernest? Better, hey! He ought—— Good heavens, child, what's that you've got in your hand?
Virginia. Just a dicky, grandfather.
Grumpy (excitedly). Let me look ... Virginia, it's an india-rubber one! (Sternly) Where did you get this?