Lydia was tired from the night before; her vitality was low enough to waken in her the involuntary rebuttal, "I don't believe there is any necklace." But she only passed a hand over her forehead and pushed up her hair and then drew a little chair to Madame Beattie's side.
"So you think she'll come back?" she asked drearily.
"Of course. She's only going for a couple of days. You don't suppose she'd leave me here to conspire with Susan? She'll put the necklace into a safe. That's all."
"But you mustn't let her, must you?"
"Oh, I sha'n't let her. Of course I sha'n't."
"What shall you do?"
"She's not going till night. She takes Sophy, of course."
"But what can you do?"
"I shall consult that dirty little man. He's a lawyer and he's not in love with her."
"Mr. Moore? You haven't much time, Madame Beattie. She'll be going."