Montalais are
compatriots. She is of your New York. You must know each other."

"I have been wondering," Monk admitted, bowing to Eve, "if it were
possible I could be misled by a strong resemblance."

Eve turned to him with a look of surprise. "Yes, monsieur?"

"It is many years ago, you were a young girl then, if it was truly you,
madame; but I have a keen eye for beauty, I do not soon forget it ... I
was in the private office of my friend, Edmund Anstruther, of
Cottier's, one afternoon, selecting a trinket with his advice, and--"

"That was my father, monsieur."

"Then it was you, madame; I felt sure of it. You came in unannounced,
to see your father. He made me known to you as a friend of his, and
requested you to wait in an adjoining office. But that was not
necessary, I had already made up my mind, I left almost immediately. Do
you by any chance remember?"

The effort of the memory knitted Eve's brows; but in the end she shook
her head. "I am sorry, monsieur--"

"But why should you be? Why should you have remembered me? You were a
young girl, then, as I say, and I already a man of middle age. You saw
me once, for perhaps two minutes. It would have been a miracle had I
remained in your memory for as long as a single day. Nevertheless, _I_
remembered."

"I am so glad to meet a friend of my father's, monsieur."

"And I to recall myself to his daughter. I have often wondered ...
Would you mind telling me something, Madame de Montalais?"

"If I can..."

"Your father and I entertained one passion in common, one which he was
better able than I to gratify, for good diamonds and emeralds. I have
often wondered what became of his collection. He had some superb
stones."

"I inherited them, monsieur."

"They did not find their way into Cottier's stock, then?"

The Comtesse de Lorgnes gave a gesture of excitement. "But what a
fortunate woman! You truly have those magnificent emeralds, those
almost matchless diamonds, of which one has heard--the Anstruther
collection?"

"I have them, Madame la Comtesse," said Eve with a smiling nod--"yes."

"But, one presumes, in Paris, in some impregnable strong-box."

"No, madame, here."

"But not here, Madame de Montalais!" To this Eve gave another nod and
smile. "But are you not afraid--?"

"Of what, madame? That they will be stolen? No. They have been in my
possession for years--indeed, I should be unhappy otherwise, for I have
inherited my father's fondness for the