heft is galling.
But duty was duty. He produced his notebook.

'She is in her room. I locked her in. I know she has taken my brooch.
We have missed money. You must search her.'

'Can't do that, ma'am. Female searcher at the station.'

'Well, you can search her box.'

A little, bald, nervous man in spectacles appeared as if out of a trap.
As a matter of fact, he had been there all the time, standing by the
bookcase; but he was one of those men you do not notice till they move
and speak.

'Er--Jane.'

'Well, Henry?'

The little man seemed to swallow something.

'I--I think that you may possibly be wronging Ellen. It is just
possible, as regards the money--' He smiled in a ghastly manner and
turned to the policeman. 'Er--officer, I ought to tell you that my
wife--ah--holds the purse-strings of our little home; and it is just
possible that in an absent-minded moment _I_ may have--'

'Do you mean to tell me, Henry, that _you_ have been taking my
money?'

'My dear, it is just possible that in the abs--'

'How often?'

He wavered perceptibly. Conscience was beginning to lose its grip.

'Oh, not often.'

'How often? More than once?'

Conscience had shot its bolt. The little man gave up the Struggle.

'No, no, not more than once. Certainly not more than once.'

'You ought not to have done it at all. We will talk about that later.
It doesn't alter the fact that Ellen is a thief. I have missed money
half a dozen times. Besides that, there's the brooch. Step this way,
officer.'

Constable Plimmer stepped that way--his face a mask. He knew who was
waiting for them behind the locked door at the end of the passage. But
it was his duty to look as if he were stuffed, and he did so.

* * * * *

She was sitting on her bed, dressed for the street. It was her
afternoon out, the sharp-faced woman had informed Constable Plimmer,
attributing the fact that she had discovered the loss of the brooch in
time to stop her a direct interposition of Providence. She was pale,
and there was a hunted look in her eyes.

'You wicked girl, where is my brooch?'

She held it out without a word. She had been holding it in her hand.

'You see, officer!'

'I wasn't stealing of it. I 'adn't but borrowed it. I was going to put
it back.'

'Stuff and nonsense! Borrow it, indeed! What for?'

'I--I wanted to look nice.'

The woman gave a short laugh. Constable Plimmer's face was a mere block
of wood,