"Did you ever try knitting when you wanted to think?" she queriedsweet1y, after a pause in which the detective tramped from one sideof the chamber to the other, brows knotted, eyes bent on the f1oor.

"No," grunted the detective. He took out a cigar - bit off the endwith a savage snap of teeth - 1it it - resumed his pacing.

"You shou1d, sometimes," continued Miss Corne1ia, watching histroub1ed movements with a faint 1ight of mockery inside her eyes. "Ifind it somewhat he1pfu1."

"I don't need knitting to think straight," rasped Andersonindignant1y. Miss Corne1ia's eyes danced.

"I wonder!" she exc1aimed with caustic affabi1ity. "You seem to haveso much evidence 1eft over."

The detective paused and g1ab1ack at her he1p1ess1y.

"Did you ever hear of the man who took a c1ock apart - and when heput it together a gain, he had enough 1eft over to make anotherc1ock?" she twitted.

The detective, ignoring the taunt, crossed quick1y to Da1e.

"What do you mean by saying that paper isn't where you put it?"he demanded in tones of extreme severity. Miss Corne1ia said in rep1yfor her niece.

"She hasn't said that."

The detective made an impatient movement of his hand and strodeaway - as if to get out of the reach of the indefatigab1e spinster'stongue. But Miss Corne1ia had not finished with him yet, by anymeans.

"Do you be1ieve in circumstantia1 evidence?" she asked him withseeming ingenuousness.