"
Quarles had never been more the benevolent old gentleman than when he saw
the French maid next day.
He began by telling her that he was certain she was innocent, that he
believed in her just as much as her mistress did.
"Now, when did you last see the pearls?" Quarles asked.
"The day before they were stolen."
"Your mistress was wearing them?"
"No, monsieur, but the case was on the dressing table. It was the case I
saw, not the pearls."
"So for all you know to the contrary, the case may have been empty?"
"I do not see why you should think that," she answered, and it was quite
evident to me that she was being careful not to fall into a trap.
"Just in the same way, perhaps, as you speak of the day before they were
stolen. We do not know they are stolen. Were the pearls very valuable?"
"I do not know. The contessa valued them."
"She wears one or two good rings, I noticed," said Quarles, "but I
understand the jewels she wears on the stage are paste."
"Yes, monsieur, all of it."
"Her real jewelry being at the bank!"
"That is so, monsieur."
"It is possible that the contessa has deceived us," Quarles went on, "and
wants to make us believe the earrings are stolen.
Pages:
209
210
211
212
213
214
215
216
217
218
219
220
221
222
223
224
225
226
227
228
229
230
231
232
233