nonchalant expression. But the movement of the hand and the look of the
eyes had not escaped Mary's attention; her voice betrayed some surprise
as she said:

"It's only that I just happened to notice that combination knife-and-fork
lying there, and I wondered who--"

The article in question lay among some half-dozen ordinary knives and
forks. It was of a kind quite familiar to Doctor Mary from her hospital
experience, a fork on one side, a knife-blade on the other; an implement
made for people who could command the use of only one hand.

"Surely you've noticed my hand?" He drew his right hand again from the
pocket to which he had so quickly returned it. "I used to use that in
hospital, when I was bandaged up. But that's a long while ago now, and I
can't think why Hooper's left it lying there."

The account was plausible, and entirely the same might now be said of his
face and manner. But Mary had seen the dart of his hand and the sudden
alertness in his eyes. Her own rested on him for a moment with inquiry,
for the first time with a hint of distrust. "I see!" she murmured
vaguely, and, turning away from him, pursued her way to the door.
Beaumaroy followed her with a queer smile on his lips; he shrugged his
shoulders once, very slightly.

A constraint had fallen on Mary. She allowed herself to be escorted to
the car and helped into it in silence. Beaumaroy made no effort to force
the talk, possibly by reason of the presence of Sergeant Hooper, who had
arrived back from the chemist's with the medicine for Mr. Saffron just as
Mary and Beaumaroy came out of the hall door. He stood by his bicycle,