"'At a quarter after four that morning Mrs. Pitman, thoroughly awake,
heard the boat returning, and going to the stairs, met Ladley coming
in. He muttered something about having gone for medicine for his wife
and went to his room, shutting the dog out. This is worth attention,
for the dog ordinarily slept in their room.'"

"What sort of a dog?" asked Mr. Howell. He had been listening
attentively.

"A water-spaniel. 'The rest of the night, or early morning, was quiet.
At a quarter after seven, Ladley asked for coffee and toast for one,
and on Mrs. Pitman remarking this, said that his wife was not playing
this week, and had gone for a few days' vacation, having left early in
the morning.' Remember, during the night he had been out for medicine
for her. Now she was able to travel, and, in fact, had started."

Mr. Howell was frowning at the floor. "If he was doing anything wrong,
he was doing it very badly," he said.

"This is where I entered the case," said Mr. Holcombe, "I rowed into
the lower hall this morning, to feed the dog, Peter, who was whining
on the staircase. Mrs. Pitman was coming down, pale and agitated over
the fact that the dog, shortly before, had found floating in the
parlor down-stairs a slipper belonging to Mrs. Ladley, and, later, a
knife with a broken blade. She maintains that she had the knife last
night up-stairs, that it was not broken, and that it was taken from a
shelf in her room while she dozed. The question is, then: Why was the
knife taken? Who took it? And why? Has this man made away with his
wife, or has he not?"