She was, perhaps, the obvious person to think of.
Or it could have been Partridge.
But there were other possibilities.
The pages could have been cut out by anyone who had been alone in this room, any visitor, for instance, who had sat there waiting for Miss Emily.
Or even anyone who called on business.
No, that wasn't so likely.
I had noticed that when, one day, a clerk from the bank had come to see me, Partridge had shown him into the little study at the back of the house.
That was clearly the house routine.
A visitor, then?
Someone "of good social position."
Mr. Pye?
Aimйe Griffith?
Mrs. Dane Calthrop?
The gong sounded and I went in to lunch.
Afterward, in the drawing room, I showed Joanna my find. We discussed it from every aspect. Then I took it down to the police station.
They were elated at the find, and I was patted on the back for what was, after all, the sheerest piece of luck.
Graves was not there, but Nash was, and rang up the other man.
They would test the book for fingerprints, though Nash was not hopeful of finding anything.
I may say that he did not.
There were mine, Partridge's and nobody else's, merely showing that Partridge dusted conscientiously.
Nash walked back with me up the hill.
I asked how he was getting on.
"We're narrowing it down, Mr. Burton.
We've eliminated the people it couldn't be."
"Ah," I said. "And who remains?"
"Miss Ginch.
She was to meet a client at a house yesterday afternoon by appointment.
That house was situated not far along the Combe Acre road - that's the road that goes past the Symmingtons'.
She would have to pass the house both going and coming... the week before, the day the anonymous letter was delivered and Mrs. Symmington committed suicide, was her last day at Symmington's office.
"Mr. Symmington thought at first she had not left the office at all that afternoon.
He had Sir Henry Lushington with him all the afternoon and rang several times for Miss Ginch.
I find, however, that she did leave the office between three and four. She went out to get some high denomination of stamp of which they had run short.
The office boy could have gone, but Miss Ginch elected to go, saying she had a headache and would like the air.
She was not gone long."
"But long enough?"
"Yes, long enough to hurry along to the other end of the village, slip the letter in the box and hurry back.
I must say, however, that I cannot find anybody who saw her near the Symmingtons' house."
"Would they notice?"
"They might and they might not."
"Who else is in your bag?"
Nash looked very straight ahead of him.
"You'll understand that we can't exclude anybody - anybody at all."
"No," I said. "I see that."
He said gravely,
"Miss Griffith Went to Brenton for a meeting of Girl Guides yesterday.
She arrived rather late."
"You don't think...?"
"No, I don't think.
But I don't know.
Miss Griffith seems an eminently sane, healthy-minded woman - but I say, I don't know."