The colour flashed into Mrs. Carnthwacke's face.
“Do you mean that you will not let me have it back?”
“I am afraid I cannot, madam.”
She sprang forward with outstretched hands—just missed it by half an inch. The inspector quietly put it in his notebook and, snapping the elastic round it, returned it to his pocket.
“You may rely upon me to do my best for you, madam. I shall make every possible search for the diamonds and will communicate with the executors, who will of course recognize their responsibility if the jewels are not found. And now will you let me give you one piece of advice?”
“I don't know. I guess I am not a good person to give advice to.”
Evidently Mrs. Carnthwacke was not to be placated. Her eyes flashed, and one foot beat an impatient tattoo on the floor.
The inspector was unruffled.
“Nevertheless, I think I will venture upon it. Tell your husband yourself what has happened. He will help you more efficiently than anyone else in the whole world can. And Mr. Carnthwacke's advice is worth having.”