"Yes."
"Do you know who was supposed to have sealed up the packet?"
"Mayen, of course: with a duplicate ring Pat had made for him on purpose."
"Yes, a duplicate. But would the scratch have been copied? It shows on all five seals of the packet. I looked through the magnifier."
"Juliet! You accuse Pat——"
"Or Pavoya. I said it must lie between him and her."
Jack did not answer at once. He saw the sinister importance of this discovery which Juliet had made. His mind rushed back to yesterday. Lyda Pavoya had been left alone in the study, for how long he did not know. But Pat had given her a chance to get away. He had made an excuse to show both men something in the Chinese room next door. Then, when Defasquelle pleaded an engagement, Pat had rung for Togo to guide the Frenchman out. A little later Jack also had gone. What Pat had done after that, who could tell? His own man Nickson, perhaps, or one of the other servants. Jack pushed the name of Lyda Pavoya violently out of his mind. He would not ask himself what she knew about Pat's next movements and about the red seals.
When these thoughts had shot through his head, bringing actual bodily pain, he drew a long breath, and forced himself to speak. Juliet was waiting! "It's very necessary to have a detective to tackle this business," he said. "I realize that fact more than ever now. It's essential for Pat's own sake, if—for no one else's. A sharp chap may be able somehow or other to pulverize this beastly theory you're forming, Juliet. He'll make tests for fingerprints on the safe in the wall. If there are others besides Pat's, of course——"
"And Lyda Pavoya's!"
"It's not worthy of you to spring to such conclusions!" Manners broke out before he could control himself. He expected Juliet to retort furiously, but she did not. She merely looked piteous—and young.