"Yes, I——" Betty began, and she turned towards Ann for confirmation, and then swiftly turned away again. "I think so."
"I am sure of it," said Ann steadily, though her face had grown rather white and her eyes anxious.
"How long has Francine Rollard been with you?" Hanaud asked of Betty.
"Three years. No—a little more. She is the only maid I have ever had," Betty answered with a laugh.
"I see," Hanaud said thoughtfully; and what he saw, it seemed to Jim Frobisher that every one else in that room saw too. For no one looked at Ann Upcott. Old servants do not steal valuable necklaces: Ann Upcott and Jeanne Baudin, the nurse, were the only new-comers to the Maison Crenelle these many years; and Jeanne Baudin had the best of characters. Thus the argument seemed to run though no one expressed it in words.
Hanaud turned his attention to the lock of the cupboard, and shook his head over it. Then he crossed to the dressing-table and the morocco case.
"Aha!" he said with a lively interest. "This is a different affair;" and he bent down closely over it.
The case was not locked with a key at all. There were three small gilt knobs in the front of the case, and the lock was set by the number of revolutions given to each knob. These, of course, could be varied with each knob, and all must be known before the case could be opened—Mrs. Harlowe's jewels had been guarded by a formula.
"There has been no violence used here," said Hanaud, standing up again.
"Of course my aunt may have forgotten to lock the case," said Betty.