Did she suspect something?
And if so, what?
I had one more shot. It was an inspiration which came to me at the end of
lunch when my host offered me a cigar.
"Matches?" he observed, pushing a box towards me.
Again I looked at him hard and asked,
"Have you such a thing as a _wax_ match?"
His eyebrows rose slightly.
"If you prefer to light a cigar with a wax match I daresay I can
find one."
"If Mr. Merton doesn't mind waiting for half an hour perhaps I might
discover a box in the store room," said Miss Rendall, and she added
demurely, "beside the champagne."
My only consolation was that I was making an idiot of myself in a
good cause.
VIII
SUNDAY
I said good-night early that evening and did a heap of thinking in my
bed-room. Nothing that seems to me now to be worth recording had been
said or done since luncheon. I went for a solitary walk in the
afternoon, as much to carry out the part of one with some business in
the isle as for any other reason. It is true I actually did do some
business in the way of accosting a few inhabitants and trying tactfully
to convey a suspicious impression. None of them, however, had seemed in
the least likely to belong to the gang I was after, and the sheep and
wax match conundrums had left them cold. I was the less concerned at
this since I had realised that the day was Saturday.
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