Then Vivian Lodge asked for it and
turned it over.
"Lovely work--and beautiful materials. Ah!--do you see what it is?"--he
held it up--"the Arms of Florence, embroidered in gold and silver
thread. H'm. I suppose, Buntingford, you get some Whitsuntide visitors
in the village?"
"Oh, yes, a few. There's a little pub with one or two decent rooms, and
several cottagers take lodgers. The lady, whoever she was, was scarcely a
person of delicacy."
"She was in that place for an object," said Geoffrey, interrupting him
with some decision. "Of that I feel certain. If she had just lost her
way, and was trespassing--she must have known, I think, that she was
trespassing--why didn't she answer my call and let me put her over the
lake? Of course I should never have seen her at all, but for that
accident of the searchlight."
"The question is," said Buntingford, "how long did she stay there? She
was not under the yews when you saw her?"
"No--just outside."
"Well, then, supposing, to get out of the way of the searchlight, she
found her way in and discovered my seat--how long do you guess she was
there?--and when the bag dropped?"
"Any time between then--and midnight--when Helena found it," said French.
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