ill tell you was a very unpleasant episode, but the
Honourable John Haddon is a poor man, and it is quite out of the
question for one brought up as I have been to marry into poverty. He
was very headstrong and reckless about the matter, and involved my
uncle in a bitter quarrel while discussing it, much to my chagrin and
disappointment. It is as necessary for him to marry wealth as it is
for me to make a good match, but he could not be brought to see that.
Oh, he is not at all a sensible young man, and my former friendship
for him has ceased. Yet I should dislike very much to take any action
that might harm him, therefore I have spoken to no one but you about
the evidence that is in my hands, and this you must treat as entirely
confidential, giving no hint to my uncle, who is already bitter enough
against Mr. Haddon.'

'Does this evidence convince you that he stole the necklace?'

'No; I do not believe that he actually stole it, but I am persuaded he
was an accessory after the fact--is that the legal term? Now, Monsieur
Valmont, we will say no more tonight. If I talk any longer about this
crisis, I shall not sleep, and I wish, assured of your help, to attack
the situation with a very clear mind tomorrow.'

When I retired to my room, I found that I, too, could not sleep,
although I needed a clear mind to face the problem of tomorrow. It is
difficult for me to describe accurately the effect this interview had
upon my mind, but to use a bodily simile, I may say that it seemed as
if I had indulged too freely in a subtle champagne which appeared
exceedingly excellent at first, but from which the exhilaration had
now departed. No man could have been more completely under a spell
than I was when Lady Alicia's eyes first told me more than her lips
revealed; but although I had challenged her right to the title
'mercenary' when she applied it to herself, I could not but confess
that her nonchalant recital regarding the friend who desired to be a
lover jarred upon me. I found my sympathy extending itself to that
unknown young man, on whom it appeared the shadow of suspicion already
rested. I was confident that if he had actually taken the emeralds it
was not at all from motives of cupidity. Indeed that was practically
shown by the fact that Scotland Yard found itself unable to trace the
jewels, which at least they might have done if the necklace had been
sold either as a whole or dismembered. Of course, an emerald weighing
an o