"I suppose you want me to believe that the last occupant of this room tucked some valued possession down into a safe hiding place--and then forgot all about it.

That is likely, is it not?
You shall have the pleasure, Mademoiselle--and you, Monsieur--of seeing with me what that careless person left behind him." He had laid the thing on the table, and now he tapped it, aggravatingly, with his hand.

But the strain was over for me.

I looked on with calmness, and was amazed when at last Maxine flew to him, no longer scornful, tragically indifferent in her manner, but imploring--a weak, agonized woman.
"For the love of God, spare me, Monsieur," she sobbed.

"You don't understand.