“Yes, indeed! But I am afraid it is too late now. Mine was an old-fashioned watch—we used to wear them pinned on our dresses, with a brooch. Mine had seven diamonds on it in front, and my initials ‘E. W.’ in tiny pearls on the back.”
“Did you advertise?”
“Yes, of course. But nothing came of it. My daughter thinks that transient guest—a chorus girl named Mary Green—stole it. We tried to trace her, but we couldn’t find her name with any of the theatrical companies in town at the time.”
“She never came back here to Stoddard House?”
“Oh no.”
“And were the other watches stolen the same day?”
“Yes. Mrs. Hilliard’s was taken during the supper hour, but she had laid it down on the desk, so that was her own carelessness. But the Walder girls had theirs taken while they were asleep—just as yours was.”
“What were theirs like?”
“Plain gold wrist-watches, with their initials—R. W. and E. W. Their names are Ruth and Evelyn.”
“Well, I’ll do what I can,” concluded Mary Louise. “And now let’s talk about something pleasant.”