“Excuse me,” interrupted the Superintendent, “but can you give me an idea of the time when this occurred?”
“I never know the time,” said the Countess superbly, and swept on with her story.
“The house was very quiet. One could even hear the little mouse run, if there had been one. I come down the stairs—very quietly—”
“Very quietly?”
“Naturally I do not want to disturb the household,” said the Countess reproachfully. “I come in here. I go into this corner and I search the shelves for a suitable book.”
“Having, of course, switched on the light?”
“No, I did not switch on the light. I had, you see, my little electric torch with me. With that, I scanned the shelves.”
“Ah!” said the Superintendent.
“Suddenly,” continued the Countess dramatically, “I hear something. A stealthy sound. A muffled footstep. I switch out my torch and listen. The footsteps draw nearer—stealthy, horrible footsteps. I shrink behind the screen. In another minute the door opens and the light is switched on. The man—the burglar is in the room.”
“Yes, but I say—” began Mr. Thesiger.
A large-sized foot pressed his, and realising that Superintendent Battle was giving him a hint, Jimmy shut up.
“I nearly died of fear,” continued the Countess. “I tried not to breathe. The man waited for a minute, listening. Then, still with that horrible, stealthy tread—”