It was the half of a link cuff-button of unique design, and I looked at
it carefully.
"Where was it? In the bottom of the hamper?" I asked.
"On the very top," she replied. "It's a mercy it didn't fall out on
the way."
When Liddy had gone I examined the fragment attentively. I had never
seen it before, and I was certain it was not Halsey's. It was of
Italian workmanship, and consisted of a mother-of-pearl foundation,
encrusted with tiny seed-pearls, strung on horsehair to hold them. In
the center was a small ruby. The trinket was odd enough, but not
intrinsically of great value. Its interest for me lay in this: Liddy
had found it lying in the top of the hamper which had blocked the
east-wing stairs.
That afternoon the Armstrongs' housekeeper, a youngish good-looking
woman, applied for Mrs. Ralston's place, and I was glad enough to take
her. She looked as though she might be equal to a dozen of Liddy, with
her snapping black eyes and heavy jaw. Her name was Anne Watson, and I
dined that evening for the first time in three days.