Pugh’s Poisoned Ring— I —
I really don’t know what induced me to do it; it was done on the impulse of the moment – one of those impulses to which collectors, real collectors, collectors in the highest sense, are peculiarly liable; I know I am.
Pugh had left the room for a moment. I just opened his cabinet of rings. I glanced within. One of the rings particularly caught my eye. I just picked it up as he came in. Unconsciously – or almost unconsciously – as Pugh entered, I dropped the ring into my waistcoat pocket. It was the merest coincidence. Five minutes afterwards I went away.
As I was walking homewards it occurred to me that the ring was – where it was. The fact is that I slipped my fingers into my waistcoat pocket, and – found it there. It struck me that, as it was where it was, I
