Roger looked at her steadily. “Mrs. Plant,” he said in a low voice, “you’re quite certain you won that bet of ours at dinner, aren’t you?” “Certain?” asked Mrs. Plant uneasily. “Of course I am. Why?” “You didn’t forget any room that you went into yesterday evening by any chance?” Roger pursued firmly. “The morning room, the storeroom, or—the library, for instance?” Mrs. Plant stared at him with wide eyes. “What do you mean, Mr. Sheringham?” she asked in somewhat heightened tones. “Of course I didn’t forget.” “You went into none of those rooms, then?” “Certainly not!” “H’m! The bet was a bottle of scent and a handkerchief, wasn’t it?” Roger remarked musingly, feeling in his pocket. “Well, here’s the handkerchief. I found it where you left it—on the couch in the library!” Chapter XX Mrs. Plant Proves Disappointing For a moment Mrs. Plant sat perfectly rigid. Then she put out her hand and mechanically took the handkerchief that Roger was still holding out to her. Her face had gone quite white and her eyes were wide with terror. “Please don’t be alarmed,” said Roger gently, touching her hand reassuringly. “I don’t want to frighten you, or anything like that; but don’t you think it would be better if you told me the truth? You might get into very serious trouble with the police, you know, if it came out that you had been concealing any important fact. Really, I only want to help you, Mrs. Plant.” The colour drained back into her face at that, though her breath still came in gasps and she continued to stare at him fearfully. “But—but it wasn’t anything—important,” she said jerkily. “It was only——” She paused again. “Don’t tell me if you’d rather not, of course,” Roger said quickly. “But I can’t help feeling that I might be able to advise you. It’s a serious matter to mislead the police, even in the most trivial details. Take your time and think it over.” He rose to his feet and joined Alec at the window. When Mrs. Plant spoke again, her composure was largely restored. “Really,” she said, with a nervous little laugh, “it’s absurd for me to make such a fuss over a trifle, but I have got a horror of giving evidence—morbid, if you like, but none the less genuine. So I tried to minimise my last conversation with Mr. Stanworth as much as possible, in the hope that the police would attach so little importance to it that they wouldn’t call on me to give evidence.” Roger seated himself on the arm of a chair and swung his leg carelessly. “But you’ll be called in any case, so why not tell exactly what happened?” “Yes, but—but I didn’t know that then, you see; not when I made my statement. I didn’t think they’d call me at all then. Or I hoped they wouldn’t.” “I see. Still, I think it would be better not to conceal anything as things are, don’t you?” “Oh, yes. I quite see that now. Quite. It’s very good of you to help me like this, Mr. Sheringham. When—when did you find my handkerchief?”