What for? Not for anything in the drawers.If there had been anything worth her taking it would surely have been locked up.
No; it was for something in that wooden bureau.Halloa! what is that scratch upon the face of it? Just hold a match, Watson.
Why did you not tell me of this, Hopkins?"The mark which he was examining began upon the brass work on the right-hand side of the keyhole, and extended for about four inches, where it had scratched the varnish from the surface.
"I noticed it, Mr.Holmes.But you'll always find scratches round a keyhole.""This is recent, quite recent.See how the brass shines where it is cut.An old scratch would be the same colour as the surface.
Look at it through my lens.There's the varnish, too, like earth on each side of a furrow.Is Mrs.Marker there?"A sad-faced, elderly woman came into the room.
"Did you dust this bureau yesterday morning?""Yes, sir."
"Did you notice this scratch?"
"No, sir, I did not."
"I am sure you did not, for a duster would have swept away these shreds of varnish.Who has the key of this bureau?""The Professor keeps it on his watch-chain.""Is it a simple key?"
"No, sir; it is a Chubb's key."
"Very good.Mrs.Marker, you can go.Now we are making a little progress.Our lady enters the room, advances to the bureau, and either opens it or tries to do so.While she is thus engaged young Willoughby Smith enters the room.In her hurry to withdraw the key she makes this scratch upon the door.