Good evening." Saying these last words, the lawyer approached me on his way out of the house.

I stopped him without ceremony; I felt an ungovernable curiosity to know more.
"Who snatched the paper out of your hand ?" I asked, bluntly.
The lawyer started.

I had taken him by surprise.

The instinct of professional reticence made him pause before he answered me.
In the brief interval of silence, Miss Meadowcroft replied to my question from the other end of the hall.
"Naomi Colebrook snatched the paper out of his hand." "What paper ?" A door opened softly behind me.

Naomi herself appeared on the threshold; Naomi herself answered my question.
"I will tell you," she whispered.