"I suppose you are hinting that I did it?" Pauline said calmly.
When the count smiled, it was another man looking at her, a man to whom she was a stranger. For the first time a thrill of uneasiness took hold of her.
"Is hinting the right word?" Count Michæl retorted.
"I might have done it," Pauline admitted, "I remember when I heard the crash of the broken glass jumping up. I probably put my hand out to steady myself and touched the knob without noticing it. How unfortunate!"
"Again," said the count, "I must question your right use of words. You said 'unfortunate,' did you not?"
"There is one other thing which has puzzled me," Count Michæl went on. "Peter Sissek's wife thinks she saw you come back to the garage two mornings back soon after sunrise. She was wrong?"
"She was right," Pauline replied, "I could not sleep so I went out to try and find the missing coat."
"What loyal helpers surround me," the count murmured. "Before you retire to your well earned night's rest one other question."
"As many as you please," said Pauline, some of her burden of anxiety lifted. "What is it?"