“Mr. Inglethorp, as a mere matter of form, would you mind telling us where you were on the evening of Monday, July 16th?”
“Really—I can’t remember.”
“That is absurd, Mr. Inglethorp,” said the Coroner sharply. “Think again.”
Inglethorp shook his head.
“I cannot tell you. I have an idea that I was out walking.”
“In what direction?”
“I really can’t remember.”
The Coroner’s face grew graver.
“Were you in company with anyone?”
“No.”
“Did you meet anyone on your walk?”
“No.”
“That is a pity,”
“No, no, Mr. Cavendish, it is too late now. I am certain that you would find it. If Mr. Inglethorp did take it, he has had ample time to replace it by now.”
“But do you think–-”
“I think nothing. If anyone had chanced to look this morning before his return, and seen it there, it would have been a valuable point in his favour. That is all.”