"Brown paper burns more quickly than white?"
"Oh, yes. You can kindle a fire with brown paper better."
"Will you take the waste-basket and place it on the floor just as far from those spectacles as the waste-basket in the study stood, and in the same direction."
Bertha measured off a short distance with her eye, picked up the basket, shifted it once or twice, and finally set it down with a satisfied air.
"There!"
"It stood just behind the desk, then?"
"What is the drift of all this?" interrupted the district attorney, his deep voice falling on a breathless silence. A presentiment had spread from one to another that the solution was at hand.
"We are reproducing the exact condition of the study at the time the fire occurred. These spectacles, containing powerful cataract lenses, are made from the same prescription as Prof. Arnold's, by his optician, Mr. Dean. The large basket, a mild eccentricity of the professor's, and the black paper, are also duplicates."
"What do you hope to prove?" asked Chief Justice Playfair. His answer was a shrill cry, like a bird note, from Emily, who had never withdrawn her eye from the waste basket.
"It's catching!"