“Where were the gems this morning?”
“On my dressing-table, in my dressing-room, adjoining my sleeping room.”
“Who do you think put them there?”
“Whoever stole them the night my husband was killed.”
“And who do you think that was?”
“Whoever killed him, of course.”
“Perhaps not,” said Mrs. Faulkner, thoughtfully. “Perhaps the thief and the murderer were not the same person.”
“That may be so,” agreed Bobsy. “Have you any theory or suspicion based on the return of the jewels, Mrs. Faulkner?”
“No; except a general idea that the emeralds might have been stolen and returned by a servant, and the murder committed by an intruder.”
“Why not assume that the intruder also took the jewels?”