direct glance close at hand, supplemented by a view into a lamp-lit
street from a second-storey window on a rainy night.

"So far, so good," said Winter. "You have contrived to fill in several
details lacking in the description supplied by a policeman who chanced
to be standing at the corner when Mrs. Lester's visitor posted a
letter. Did you notice that?"

"Yes. Indeed, I believed that, whether intentionally or not, he held
an open umbrella at an angle which prevented the constable from seeing
his face."

"In fact, it's marvellous what you really do know when your memory is
jogged," snapped Furneaux.

Theydon did not resent the sarcasm. He smiled candidly into the little
detective's eyes.

"I suppose I deserve that," he said meekly.

"Why did you hide your knowledge of Mrs. Lester's visitor from your
man Bates?"

"I was rather ashamed of the subterfuge adopted in order to get him
out of the room while I opened the window the first time."

"That was understandable last night, but I fail to follow your
reasoning for a policy of silence when we told you at Waterloo that
Mrs. Lester had been killed."