service.”
“Yes,” said Tommy with a heavy heart.
“You see, in any case no harm will be done. If we call in the police tomorrow, it can be supposed that we thought the jewel merely lost and were hunting for it. By the way, nobody has been allowed to leave the house this morning.”
“Except your daughter, of course,” said Tuppence, speaking for the first time.
“Except my daughter,” agreed the Colonel. “She volunteered at once to go and put the case before you.”
Tommy rose.
“We will do our best to give you satisfaction, Colonel,” he said. “I should like to see the drawing-room, and the table on which the pendant was laid down. I should also like to ask Mrs. Betts a few questions. After that, I will interview the servants—or rather my assistant, Miss Robinson, will do so.”
He felt his nerve quailing before the terrors of questioning the servants.
Colonel Kingston Bruce threw open the door, and led them across the hall. As he did so, a remark came to them clearly through the open door of the room they were approaching, and the voice that uttered it was that of the girl who had come to see them that morning.
“You know perfectly well, mother,” she was saying, “that she did bring home a teaspoon in her muff.”
In another minute they were being introduced to Mrs. Kingston