"
"I guessed it. It takes the brain some little time to get level to the
imagination. And as soon as you came face to face with Henson you knew
what was going to happen. You were a little dazed and frightened, and a
little overcome by liquor into the bargain. But even then, though you
were probably unconscious of it yourself, you were seeking some place to
hide the ring."
"I rather believe I was," Van Sneck said, thoughtfully.
"You smoked a cigarette there. Where did you put the end?"
Van Sneck rose and went into the conservatory. He walked directly to a
large pot of stephanotis in a distant corner and picked the stump of a
gold-tipped cigarette from thence.
"I dropped it in there," he said. "Strange; if you had asked me that
question two minutes ago I should not have been able to answer it. And
now I distinctly remember pitching it in there and watching it scorch
some of that beautiful lace-like moss. There is a long trail of it
hanging down behind. I recollect how funnily it occurred to me, even in
the midst of my danger, that the trail would look better brought over the
front of the pot.
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