Beverley was already at the door, and had opened it.
"If I don't come back to you in five minutes, it will be a sign I want you to come to me."
When the door had shut behind her Angel, the girl felt she would be thankful for the five minutes' respite. She lay flat and straight as a figure on a marble tomb, yet she could not rest for thinking of O'Reilly. His eyes seemed to be looking into hers. By shutting them, she could not shut him out. When she thought that the five minutes must have passed, she slid wearily off the bed.
"I must go to Angel," she said half aloud. But she had not got to her feet when, without knocking, Beverley flung the door open.
Instantly Clo guessed that some new and worse misfortune had happened.
"This time it's the end. I give up!" Beverley panted. "The envelope has gone with the pearls. I hadn't even opened it. I don't know what was inside."
"Gone! The envelope gone!" gasped the girl. "Gone—from—where?"
"From the table in the boudoir," Beverley answered. "I laid it there when Miss Blackburne told me about the pearls. It was there when I came to you. Miss Blackburne hasn't left the room. She didn't even see the envelope. I've searched everywhere for it—but it's gone."