“Well, it must have been about then. I can’t say exactly. It might have been later.”
“Was your uncle alone, or was there anyone with him?”
“He was alone. Dr. Sheppard had gone.”
“Did you happen to notice whether the window was open or shut?”
Flora shook her head. “I can’t say. The curtains were drawn.”
“Exactly. And your uncle seemed quite as usual?”
“I think so.”
“Do you mind telling us exactly what passed between you?”
Flora paused a minute, as though to collect her recollections. “I went in and said, ‘Goodnight, Uncle, I’m going to bed now. I’m tired tonight.’ He gave a sort of grunt, and—I went over and kissed him, and he said something about my looking nice in the frock I had on, and then he told me to run away as he was busy. So I went.”
“Did he ask specially not to be disturbed?”
“Oh! yes, I forgot. He said: ‘Tell Parker I don’t want anything more tonight, and that he’s not to disturb me.’ I met Parker just outside the door and gave him uncle’s message.”
“Just so,” said the inspector.
“Won’t you tell me what it is that has been stolen?”
“We’re not quite—certain,” said the inspector hesitatingly.
A wide look of alarm came into the girl’s eyes. She started up. “What is it? You’re hiding something from me?”