You understand, my lord ?" The sweat stood out in great drops on Heyton's face; he tried to meet the detective's eye with an insolent, indignant stare; but his eyes wavered and fell and he sank into a chair.
"I--I don't know what you mean ?" he stammered thickly.
"But you will go ?" inquired Mr.Jacobs.

"In fact, I am sure you will." Cur as he was, Heyton made a last stand; he threw up his head, swore a vile oath and struck the table.
"I'm hanged if I do!" he said.
"You'll be hanged, if you don't, my lord!" said Mr.Jacobs.Then, after a pause, he said, with a shrug of the shoulders, "I thought you'd have been sensible, that you'd have taken my tip without forcing me into particulars; but if you must have them--well, Lord Heyton, if you are here to-morrow morning, I shall arrest you for the robbery of the jewels and the attempted murder of Lord Sutcombe." Heyton sprang to his feet; then sank back again with a hoarse attempt at a laugh.
"You must be a fool!" "Well, one of us is a fool, but it's not me, my lord," said Mr.Jacobs, imperturbably.

"I knew the truth ten minutes after I had examined the dressing-room.

You see, the burglar who understands his business works in kid gloves; they leave no finger-prints.

There were prints on the door of the safe, inside, on the poker--oh, well, everywhere; because, you see, when a man's engaged in this kind of work, he's naturally nervous, his hands are sweaty.