“Something I meant to ask you—and nearly forgot. Do you remember that glove that Superintendent Battle found—the half-burnt one?”
“Yes.”
“Didn’t you say that he tried it on your hand?”
“Yes—it was a shade big. That fits in with the idea of its being a big, hefty man who wore it.”
“That’s not at all what I’m bothering about. Never mind the size of it. George and Sir Oswald were both there too, weren’t they?”
“Yes.”
“He could have given it to either of them to fit on?”
“Yes, of course—”
“But he didn’t. He chose you. Jimmy, don’t you see what that means?”
Mr. Thesiger stared at her.
“I’m sorry, Bundle. Possibly the jolly old brain isn’t functioning as well as usual, but I haven’t the faintest idea what you’re talking about.”
“Don’t you see, Loraine?”
Loraine looked at her curiously, but shook her head.
“Does it mean anything in particular?”
“Of course it does. Don’t you see—Jimmy had his right hand in a sling.”
“By Jove, Bundle,” said Jimmy slowly. “It was rather odd now I come to think of it; its being a left-hand glove, I mean. Battle never said anything.”