Not only had that service of gold plate once existed, but it existed now, entire, intact; not a single burnished golden piece of it was missing.

It was somewhere, somebody had it, locked away in that leather trunk with its quilted lining and round brass locks.

It was to be searched for and secured, to be fought for, to be gained at all hazards.

Maria must know where it was; by dint of questioning, Zerkow would surely get the information from her.

Some day, if only he was persistent, he would hit upon the right combination of questions, the right suggestion that would disentangle Maria's confused recollections.