"Let me think, where were we last, Kate?" she wondered. "The shop where I bought the lilac and silver stole, wasn't it?"
"Yes, ma'am it was. And indade, if ye'll not mind my sayin' so, I begged ye not to go in there, the place looked so disrespectable, as if there might be measles or 'most anything, and the man himself come poppin' out to entice ye in, like the spider with the fly."
"We must go back at once and see if I left the bag after paying for the stole," said Angela. And, explaining to the late owner of the snuff-boxes, she hurried out with Kate, leaving her parcel to be called for.
Little Mr. Isaac Cohensohn, of the brocade shop, made a search, but could not find the missing trinket. Unfortunately, a number of people had been in since the lady left, strangers to him. If madam was sure she had gone out of the shop without the bag, why, somebody must have taken it since then. The question was, who? But she must apply to the police.
"If only I hadn't stuffed in that check-book!" Angela said to Kate. "Perhaps they would have cashed a check in the hotel. Anyhow, Monsieur Bienvenu would have taken one for what I owe him. Now I'm in the most horrid scrape! I don't know how I'm going to get out of it."
They walked back toward the shop of the snuff-boxes gloomily discussing the situation, which was complicated by the fact that, grown cautious since the attempted burglary at the Valmont, Angela had left her most valuable jewellery in a bank at New York. It was to be sent on, insured, only when she finished her travelling, and settled down.
"I'll have to call the police, I suppose," she said. "Though it's sure to do no good. I shall never see my bag again! I can telegraph to have the checks stopped at the San Francisco bank; but I had nearly five hundred dollars in the purse. What shall I do about my hotel bill and everything? And my railway tickets? We'll have to stay till I can get money."
Suddenly, because it seemed impossible, she wanted passionately to start at once.
Always she had hated postponing things.
"Somehow, I will go!" she said to herself. "I don't know how—but I will." And she walked on with Kate, back to the hotel, remembering how she had told the head clerk that this was her last day—she was giving up the rooms to-morrow. And the hotel was crammed, because there was a Convention of some sort. It might be that her suite was already let for the next day.