Downing. "I am
positively certain the toe of this shoe was red when I found it."
"It is undoubtedly black now, Mr. Downing."
"A sort of chameleon shoe," murmured Psmith.
The goaded housemaster turned on him.
"What did you say, Smith?"
"Did I speak, sir?" said Psmith, with the start of one coming suddenly
out of a trance.
Mr. Downing looked searchingly at him.
"You had better be careful, Smith."
"Yes, sir."
"I strongly suspect you of having something to do with this."
"Really, Mr. Downing," said the headmaster, "this is surely improbable.
Smith could scarcely have cleaned the shoe on his way to my house. On
one occasion I inadvertently spilled some paint on a shoe of my own. I
can assure you that it does not brush off. It needs a very systematic
cleaning before all traces are removed."
"Exactly, sir," said Psmith. "My theory, if I may...?"
"Certainly Smith."
Psmith bowed courteously and proceeded.
"My theory, sir, is that Mr. Downing was deceived by the light-and-shade
effects on the toe of the shoe. The afternoon sun, streaming in through
the window, must have shone on the shoe in such a manner as to give it a
momentary and fictitious aspect of redness.
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