d to serve dinner.

Miss Blackburne reiterated that she knew nothing of the envelope. She
had had no thought for anything except the pearls. Their loss put her
into an embarrassing position unless Mrs. Sands intended informing Mr.
Sands and the police at once of what had happened.

"I saw by your face you didn't want me to speak when your husband came
in," she said to Beverley, "so I hedged, and did the best I could
without lying. I realized that you would want to be the one to break the
news. But I suppose you have told him now? He'll send the police, or
some private detective, won't he, to take evidence while I'm here?"

"I do want to get them back," Beverley answered. "But I haven't told my
husband, and we can't have the police, or even a detective. That must
seem not quite fair to you, Miss Blackburne. Whatever happens, you
shan't suffer, I promise. I believe I know who has taken the pearls. If
I'm right, it isn't exactly a theft. Perhaps if I go the right way about
it, I can get them again. What's the good of worrying my husband, when
in a day or two there may be nothing to worry about?"

"M-m-m," muttered Miss Blackburne, "I think you're wrong, Mrs. Sands. I
have a feeling that Mr. Sands suspects."

"That the pearls are gone? How can he?" Beverley cried.

"I don't know, I only feel," the little woman repeated.

As the two had talked, Clo watched Miss Blackburne's face. It was with
her as the pearl-stringer had said of herself: she "did not know--she
could only feel" that the good little woman had something on her
conscience, something that she was obliged to hide.

Clo had by this time succeeded in clearing her mind from cobwebs.

Suddenly a light shone like flame upon the mystery. "Peterson!" was the
name that printed itself upon the girl's brain. "If he could have got
into the flat, he could have stolen both the pearls and papers. Does
Miss Blackburne know something, and if she does, why won't she tell?"

It occurred to Clo that, if she could have a few words with Miss
Blackburne alone, perhaps the puzzle might be solved.

"Angel," she said, "if there's been a thief in this house, perhaps he's
here still. With two manservants, you ought----"

Beverley waited for no more. Any straw was worth catching at. She
couldn't wait to ring for Johnson. She rushed out of the boudoir, hoping
to find the butler in the dining room. He was there. And while she
explained that something had been stolen, that the flat