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Updated: May 23, 2025
As we descended the stairs, where the smell of frying sausages had given place to that of something burning probably the sausages: "I was half inclined to think that Major Ragstaff's ideas were traceable to a former touch of the sun," said Harley. "I begin to believe that he has put us on the track of a highly unusual crime.
"Number one: Who paid you to smash Major Ragstaff's white hat? Number two: How much did he pay you?" To these questions I listened in amazement, and my amazement was evidently shared by Bampton. He had been in the act of lighting his cigarette, but he allowed the match to burn down nearly to his fingers and then dropped it with a muttered exclamation in the fire.
We had come to the house of Major Ragstaff's daughter, the Marchioness of Ireton, one of society's most celebrated and beautiful hostesses! the wife of a peer famed alike as sportsman, soldier, and scholar. "I believe she is dining at home, sir," said the man. "Shall I inquire?" "Be good enough to do so," replied Harley, and gave him a card.
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