“And when did you come up those stairs yourself-or when had anyone else been up or down?”

“Not all the afternoon so far as I know, but I didn’t want to make a fuss or ask questions. The house was full. I was in my room writing letters. My sister was resting. The girls were somewhere in the garden. Everyone else was out. I finished washing Neusel at half past four, and I shouldn’t think anyone had come up or down since three o’clock.”

“Plenty of time to polish three steps,” observed Miss Silver.

Rachel Treherne made no answer, but after a moment she went on speaking.

“I shouldn’t have thought of it again if it hadn’t been for the letters. I tried very hard not to attach any importance to it, but I couldn’t get it off my mind. You see, the stairs would be done before breakfast, and if they had been like that all day, someone would have slipped on them long before half-past four. But if they were polished in the afternoon when everybody was out of the way, then it was done on purpose to make someone fall. And after those letters I couldn’t help thinking that I was the someone. I couldn’t get it off my mind.”

“What polish had been used? Could you tell?”

“Oh, yes. It was some the housekeeper got to try-a new stuff called Glasso, but I wouldn’t have it used on the floors because it made them too slippery.”

There was another pause. Miss Silver laid down her knitting and wrote in the shiny exercise-book. Then she said,

“Is that all?” and Rachel Treherne took her hand from her eyes and cried,

“Oh, no-it isn’t!”

Miss Silver gave a little cough.

“It will be much easier if you will go straight on. What happened after that?”