"
Miss Penkridge, fetched into the room and duly introduced, lost no
time in making a suggestion of an eminently practical nature--that as
all these gentlemen had been cooped up in that stuffy police-court for
two or three hours, they would be none the worse for a glass of wine,
and she immediately disappeared, jingling a bunch of keys, to reappear
a few minutes later in charge of the parlour-maid carrying decanters
and glasses.
"A very comfortable suggestion, that, ma'am," observed Mr. Carless,
bowing to his hostess over a glass of old sherry. "Your intuition does
you credit! But now, gentlemen, and Miss Penkridge, straight to business!
Mr. Cave, the first question I want to put to you is this: on what date
did you receive the letter which you exhibited in court this morning?"
Mr. Cave produced a small pocket diary and turned over its pages.
"I can tell you that," he answered. "I made a note of it at the time. It
was--yes, here we are--on the twenty-first of November."
"And you received these papers, I think you said, two days later?"
"Yes--on the twenty-third. Here is the entry."
Mr.
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