then, fortunately, Walter came in and brought the
'Thumbograph' and took all our thumb-prints and his own as well, and we
were very much amused, and Matilda Colley--that is the eldest daughter
but one--said that Reuben jogged her elbow, but that was only an
excuse--"

"Exactly," interrupted Anstey. "And you recollect quite clearly that
your nephew Walter gave you the 'Thumbograph' on that occasion?"

"Oh, distinctly; though, you know, he is really my husband's nephew--"

"Yes. And you are sure that he took the thumb-prints?"

"Quite sure."

"And you are sure that you never saw the 'Thumbograph' before that?"

"Never. How could I? He hadn't brought it."

"Have you ever lent the 'Thumbograph' to anyone?"

"No, never. No one has ever wanted to borrow it, because, you see--"

"Has it never, at any time, gone out of your possession?"

"Oh, I wouldn't say that; in fact, I have often thought, though I hate
suspecting people, and I really don't suspect anybody in particular, you
know, but it certainly was very peculiar and I can't explain it in any
other way. You see, I kept the 'Thumbograph' in a drawer in my writing
table, and in the same drawer I used to keep my handkerchief-bag--in
fact I do still, and it is there at this very moment, for in my hurry
and agitation, I forgot about it until we were in the cab, and then it
was too late, because Mr. Lawley--"

"Yes. You kept it in a drawer with your handkerchief-bag."

"That was what I said. Well, when Mr. Hornby was staying at Brighton he
wrote to ask me to go down for a week and bring Juliet--Miss Gibson, you
know--with me. So we went, and, just as we were starting, I sent Juliet
to fetch my handkerchief-bag from the drawer, and I said to her,
'Perhaps we might take the thumb-book with us; it might come in useful
on a wet day.' So she went, and presently she came back and said that
the 'Thumbograph' was not in the drawer. Well, I was so surprised that I
went back with her and looked myself, and sure enough the drawer was
empty. Well, I didn't think much of it at the time, but when we came
home again, as soon as we got out of the cab, I gave Juliet my
handkerchief-bag to put away, and presently she came running to me in a
great state of excitement. 'Why, Auntie,' she said,' the "Thumbograph"
is in the drawer; somebody must have been meddling with your writing
table.' I went with her to the drawer, and there, sure enough, was the
'Thumbograph.' Somebody must have t