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“I don’t see that it’s vital, but it at once confirms the fact that Lord Bygrave was extremely agitated or in a most unusual hurry. He was the most leisurely of men in his actions as a rule; for an eight o’clock breakfast he would rise at six. Still I repeat that he always returned his toilet articles to his dressing-case every time after using them when he stayed in an hotel. It was merely an idiosyncrasy: I don’t even remember whether he had a reason for it. However, in this instance it doesn’t matter, for I think we can take it for granted that he hadn’t shaved if Standish is so positive about it.”
    â€œNow, Miss Standish, did you see him with a pipe in his mouth on the morning of his disappearance?” asked the inspector.
    â€œGood, Heather, good. You’ve forestalled me in the question,” interrupted Vereker.
    â€œNo. He asked for a cigar after breakfast, but after looking at the various brands we stock he decided not to smoke at all. He used the words: ‘I think I’ll give it a miss this morning.’ Whether he changed his mind before he left and lit a pipe I can’t very well say, because I was too busy with my work to take any further notice of his lordship.”
    Inspector Heather looked at Vereker. “Well, that almost confirms the point that Lord Bygrave smoked a pipe before retiring on the previous night.”
    â€œAnd it fits in with what one would surmise,” added Vereker. “We have come to the conclusion that Lord Bygrave was in the morning either in a desperate hurry or mentally agitated. Knowing him, I am inclined to think the latter. On the previous night he had events in perspective, so to speak, at some distance. He could smoke and ponder over them with comparative calmness even though they were swiftly approaching. There was nothing else to do.”
    â€œJust so,” nodded the inspector.
    â€œWhat kind of clothes was Lord Bygrave wearing? Can you remember whether they were light or dark?” asked Vereker suddenly.
    â€œA dark tweed suit, sir.”
    â€œGood, that’s something; but it makes matters more mysterious.”
    â€œI can’t follow you,” smiled the inspector. “The colour of a man’s clothes matters little before a catastrophe,” and he courteously signified to Mary Standish that his cross-examination of her was at an end.
    She at once left the room. A slight colour had mounted to her cheeks under the questions of the officer from Scotland Yard, and she seemed relieved to find that her cross-examination had for the time being come to an end.
    â€œThere’s something in her manner that instinctively tells me that she is not quite at her ease under the probe,” remarked Vereker after the girl’s departure. “I am very sensitive to these extremely delicate nuances, so to speak, in a woman’s behaviour. Did you notice it, inspector?”
    â€œNo, I noticed nothing of the sort, Mr. Vereker. Most women are nervous under a fire of questions from a police officer.”
    â€œDoubtless you’re right, inspector. I’m glad, however, she remembered that Bygrave was wearing a dark suit on arrival at the inn on the Friday night. Yet the business puzzles me—it seems to be so meaningless.”
    â€œI don’t grip your line of thought. How does the fact that Lord Bygrave was wearing a dark suit puzzle you?”
    â€œIt proves that he didn’t change his clothes while he was at the inn, for the only other suit he had brought was a light-coloured one. Now, when I found that he had detached this bunch of keys from his trousers and flung them into his kit-bag, I came to the conclusion that he had changed, for otherwise I saw no reason for his detaching them. That he detached them is an incontrovertible fact; and, as it is an unusual action to detach a key chain from one’s trousers unless preparatory to changing one’s suit, it gives