28Miss Silver opened the door to Detective Inspector Frank Abbott next morning and took him into the dining-room, where she settled herself in one of the two armchairs belonging to the set round the table and took her knitting out of its flowered chintz bag. The second vest intended for little Tina was now approaching completion. Frank looked at it, raised a colourless eyebrow, and said,
‘How many million stitches do you suppose you knit in a year?’
She smiled.
‘I must confess that I have never given the matter any attention.’
‘You should do so. It may run into billions. What a lot of dressing-up the human young require!’
She allowed her eye to travel over his immaculate suit, the harmony of tie, handkerchief and socks, the elegant cut of the shoes, before replying.
‘Not, I think, on
