"No," I answered, speaking more to myself than to him. "She—she's had too much to think of. She didn't count her things that night; and at Nevers she didn't open the bag."
"So much the worse for you, my pet, when she does find out. She left her jewels in your charge. When I came into the room, they were all lyin' about on the dressin' table, and you were playin' with 'em."
"I was putting them back into her bag."
"So you say. Jolly careless of you not to know you hadn't put this thing back. It's about the best of the lot she hadn't got plastered on for the servants' ball."
"It was careless," I admitted. "But it was your fault. You came in, and were so horrid, and upset me so much that I forgot what I'd put into the bag already, and what I hadn't."
"Lady T. doesn't know I went back to her room."
"I'll tell her!" I cried.
"I'll bet you'll tell her, right enough. But I can tell a different story. I'll say I didn't go near the room. My story will be that I was walkin' through the woods this afternoon on my way to Charretier's château when I saw you with the thing in your hands, lookin' at it. Probably goin' to ask the shuvver to dispose of it for you—what? and share profits."
"Oh, you coward!" I exclaimed, and snatched the diamond brooch from him.
Instantly he let go my dress, laughing.