THE MURDER OF ROGER ACKROYD
"Nonsense," said Caroline, as she sorted her hand. "You must know something interesting."
I did not answer for a moment. I was overwhelmed and intoxicated. I had read of there being such a thing as the Perfect Winning—going Mah Jong on one's original hand. I had never hoped to hold the hand myself.
With suppressed triumph I laid my hand face upwards on the table.
"As they say in the Shanghai Club," I remarked, "Tin-ho—the Perfect Winning!"
The colonel's eyes nearly bulged out of his head.
"Upon my soul," he said. "What an extraordinary thing. I never saw that happen before!"
It was then that I went on, goaded by Caroline's gibes, and rendered reckless by my triumph.
"And as to anything interesting," I said. "What about a gold wedding ring with a date and 'From R.' inside.
I pass over the scene that followed. I was made to say exactly where this treasure was found. I was made to reveal the date.
"March 13th," said Caroline. "Just six months ago. Ah!"
Out of the babel of excited suggestions and suppositions three theories were evolved:—
1. That of Colonel Carter: that Ralph was secretly married to Flora. The first or most simple solution.
2. That of Miss Ganett: that Roger Ackroyd had been secretly married to Mrs. Ferrars.
3. That of my sister: that Roger Ackroyd had married his housekeeper, Miss Russell.
[200]
