"Aren't you pretty sure he was the man?"

Theydon permitted himself to look astonished.

"I?" he said. "How can I be sure? If you mean that, judging from the
interval of time between my seeing him at the corner and the sound of
footsteps on the stairs, followed by the opening of the door at No.
17, it could be he, I accept that."

Winter nodded again. Apparently he was content with Theydon's
correction.

"As the weather was bad, you probably hurried in when your cab
stopped?" he said.

"That is equivalent to saying you credit me with sense enough to get
in out of the wet," smiled Theydon.

"Just so. And you wore an overcoat, which you removed on entering your
hall?"

"Yes," and Theydon's tone showed a certain bewilderment at these
trivialities.

"Then if you paid no special heed to the movements of the tall
gentleman you have mentioned, why did you open one of these windows
and look out soon after Bates went to the post?"

Theydon flushed like a schoolboy caught by a master under