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Updated: June 1, 2025
On the doorstep I found Polton peering with anxious face into the blank expanse of yellow vapour. "The Doctor's late, sir," said he. "Detained by the fog, I expect. It must be pretty thick in the Borough." Other inferior creatures there were, indeed, to whom the title of "doctor" in a way, appertained; but they were of no account in Polton's eyes.
When we entered the chambers, we found Thorndyke in earnest consultation with Polton, and on the table before them I observed, to my great surprise, the dagger with which the murder had been committed. "I have got you the specimen that you asked for," said Marchmont.
"You mean the man pushing you down in that way?" "Yes; I can't make out how his foot got in front of mine." "You don't think it was intentional, surely?" I said. "No, of course not," he replied, but without much conviction, as it seemed to me; and I was about to pursue the matter when Polton reappeared, and my friend abruptly changed the subject.
But what could that something be? I dared not ask him, for questions of that kind were anathema, so there was nothing for it but to lie low and see what he would do with the photographs. The whole series was finished on the fourth morning after my adventure at Sloane Square, and the pack of cards was duly delivered by Polton when he brought in the breakfast tray.
On the other hand, if Polton were to walk down Fleet Street at mid-day in this condition, the make-up would be conspicuously evident to any moderately observant passer-by. The secret of making up consists in a careful adjustment to the conditions of light and distance in which the make-up is to be seen.
"There is someone who thinks he will," I replied, glancing towards Polton, who, clasping in his arms the mysterious box and holding on to the microscope case, gazed at his master with a smile of ecstasy. "Polton has more faith than you have, Miss Gibson." "Yes, the dear, faithful little man!" she rejoined. "Well, we shall know the worst very soon now, at any rate."
He gave one sudden comprehending glance towards the other couple; then he took the widows hand, led her up to Dora, and said, in low yet penetrating tones, "Will you wish us joy, Mrs. Polton?" The Squire, Rippleby, and Algy Stanton were round them in an instant. I kept my place, watching now the face of Trix Queenborough. She turned first flaming red, then very pale.
"I will come and eat, which is better," answered Anstey, "and I must run off now, as I have to look in at my chambers." "How shall we go?" asked Thorndyke, as his colleague vanished through the doorway. "Polton has gone for a four-wheeler, but it won't hold us all." "It will hold four of us," said Reuben, "and Dr. Jervis will bring Juliet; won't you, Jervis?"
Lawn-tennis was the order of the day, and we were all in flannels. "Oh, here's Mark," cried Dora, seeing me. "Now, Mark, you and Mr. Ives had better play against Trix and Lord Newhaven. That'll make a very good set." "No, no, Mrs. Polton," said Jack Ives. "They wouldn't have a chance. Look here, I'll play with Miss Queenborough against Lord Newhaven and Wynne."
That something was evidently a soft metal washer, which fitted on to this hexagon, and which would be pressed into the grooves of the rifling, and so spin the dagger, but would drop off as soon as the weapon left the barrel. Here is such a washer, which Polton has made for us." He laid on the table a metal disc, with a hexagonal hole through it.
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