her neighbours. They were both absorbed for the
moment; she need not worry lest they should find her neglectful. She took
some asparagus which was offered to her, and began to eat it; but she
still had the impression that Ruthven Smith was looking at her. She
wondered why.

"He can't be expecting me to scream at him across the table," she
thought.

"Yes," he was saying to Lady Cartwright, "it was a misfortune to lose
those pearls. Two I had selected to make a pair of earrings can scarcely
be duplicated. But none of the things stolen from me compared in value to
those our agent lost on board the _Monarchic_. I suppose you read of that
affair?"

"Oh, yes," said Lady Cartwright, her voice raised in deference to her
neighbour's deafness. "It was most interesting. Especially about the
clairvoyant woman on board who saw a vision of the thief in her crystal,
throwing things into the sea attached to a life-belt with a light on it,
or something of the sort, to be picked up by a yacht. One would have
supposed, with that information to go upon, the police might have
recovered the jewels, but they didn't, and probably they never will now."

"I'm not sure the police pinned their faith to the clairvoyante's
visions," replied Ruthven Smith, with his dry chuckle.

"Really? But I've understood--though the name wasn't mentioned then, I
believe--that the woman was that wonderful Countess de Santiago we're so
excited about. She is certainly extraordinary. Nobody seems to doubt
_her_ powers! I rather thought she might be here."

Ruthven Smith showed no interest in the Countess de Santiago. Once on the
subject of jewels, it was difficult to shunt him off on another at short
notice. Or possibly he had something to say which he particularly wished
not to leave unsaid at that stage of the conversation.

"The newspapers did not publish a description of the jewels stolen on the
_Monarchic_," he went on, brushing the Countess de Santiago aside. "It
was thought best at the time not to give the reporters a list. To me,
that seemed a mistake. Who knows, for instance, through how many hands
the Malindore diamond may have passed? If some honest person, recognizing
it from a description in the papers, for instance----"

"The Malindore diamond!" exclaimed Lady Cartwright, forgetting politeness
in her interest, and cutting short a sentence which began dully. "Isn't
that the wonderful blue diamond that the British Museum refused to buy
three years