When she had finished, he sat silent for some time, while the girl regarded him anxiously. “It is, of course, too early for you to form any opinion?” she asked in a faltering voice, feeling the prolonged silence somewhat of a strain upon her nerves.
He shook his head. “A great deal too early, Miss Sheldon. Of course, it is easy to say at first blush, upon the evidence before us, those articles could only have been abstracted by one of two persons, Mr. Morrice or his secretary.”
“And it would be absurd to think that my uncle stole his own property,” cried the girl swiftly.
A rather non-committal smile illumined the calm face of the detective. “From your point of view, it would be absurd, as you most rightly say. From mine, it would be so very difficult to discover a plausible motive for such an act.”
She could not follow him in this subtle explanation, and waited in silence till he began to put certain questions to her. First, with regard to the servants, would she give him full particulars of their number, the nature of their duties, their length of service and so on?
She supplied him with the requested information. He entered all this in a private notebook, in a shorthand of his own invention which nobody could read but himself.
What did the family consist of? was his next question.
“My uncle and aunt, Richard Croxton and myself. Two other people came to the house who were practically of the family, Sir George Clayton-Brookes, my aunt’s brother-in-law, and young Archibald Brookes, his nephew and the son of my aunt’s sister.”
These particulars went into the notebook. “I have heard of Sir George, he is well known on the turf, and reputed to be a man of substance. I know nothing of the young man. Has he means of his own, or is he dependent upon his relatives?”
“Dependent upon Sir George, I believe,” answered Rosabelle. “We have always understood his uncle makes him a handsome allowance, and will leave him his property.”