That she did look upon Jeff as her tormentor he could see. She took a darting step to the door, but he was closing it.
"Wait a minute," he said. "There are one or two things we've got to get at. Where did you find the necklace?"
She met his look immovably, in the softest obstinacy. It smote him like a blow. There was something implacable in it, too, an aversion almost as fierce as hate.
"This is the necklace," he went on. "It was lost, you know. Where did you find it, Esther?"
But suddenly Esther remembered she had a counter charge to make.
"You have broken into this house," she said, "and taken it. If it is Aunt Patricia's, you have taken it from her."
"No," said Aunt Patricia easily, "it isn't altogether mine. Jeff made me a payment on it a good many years ago."
Esther turned upon her.
"He paid you for it? When?"
"He paid me something," said Madame Beattie. "Not the value of the necklace. That was when you stole it, Esther. He meant to pay me the full value. He will, in time. But he paid me what he could to keep you from being found out. Hush money, Esther."