“I should say so—yes.”
“And you haven’t come across any?”
Stark shook his head with decision, “None.”
“Did the lady seem at all upset, nervous, or frightened, or was she quite normal?”
“Well,” answered Stark, “I’ve seen her several times before and I don’t think she’s the kind of girl to show such conditions as nervousness or fright. She has always impressed me as very self-reliant and capable. I should say she was a girl that could face the music—could stand fire as you might say. But I’ll also say this. On the morning in question she certainly seemed to me to be labouring under a sort of—” he hesitated momentarily and sought mentally for what he considered the correct description, “let me say ‘nervous excitement’—perhaps the term ‘nervous eagerness,’ would fit the situation even better.”
“A certain amount of agitation—eh?” suggested Bannister.
Stark shook his head. “Hardly that—as I said just now the best term to use would be ‘nervous eagerness.’ ”
Anthony intervened again here. “I fully realise considerations of professional etiquette, and all that, Mr. Stark, and I appreciate the fact that you were almost debarred from putting any question to the lady—but did she give you any tangible idea as to her intentions with regard to the stone—why she had asked for it—what she proposed doing with it and so forth?”
“None whatever! As you observe, it was not within my personal province to subject Miss Delaney to any sort of inquisitorial examination—she was entirely within her rights in demanding the stone—I was holding it for her—I had to produce it. I did so. She took it away with her. That’s all there was to it.”
“Why is it called ‘The Peacock’s Eye’?” The inquiry came from Bannister.