''
``I mean there's a _song_ with that refrain,'' hurriedly
explained Mrs. Riversedge, ``and there's `Rhoda, Rhoda kept
a pagoda,' and `Maisie is a daisy,' and heaps of others.
Certainly it doesn't sound like Mr. Brope to be singing
such songs, but I think we ought to give him the benefit of
the doubt.''
``I had already done so,'' said Mrs. Troyle, ``until
further evidence came my way.
She shut her lips with the resolute finality of one who
enjoys the blessed certainty of being implored to open them
again.
``Further evidence!'' exclaimed her hostess; ``do tell
me!''
``As I was coming upstairs after breakfast Mr. Brope was
just passing my room. In the most natural way in the world
a piece of paper dropped out of a packet that he held in his
hand and fluttered to the ground just at my door. I was
going to call out to him `You've dropped something,' and
then for some reason I held back and didn't show myself till
he was safely in his room. You see it occurred to me that I
was very seldom in my room just at that hour, and that
Florinda was almost always there tidying up things about
that time. So I picked up that innocent-looking piece of
paper.
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