"Lady Wilmersley's jewels, of course."
Jewels! This was terrible. If they were those belonging to his cousin, their description had been published in every paper in the kingdom. It was a miracle that Smith had not recognised them.
"Of course," Cyril managed to stammer.
The doctor went to a safe and taking out a cheap, black bag handed it to Cyril.
"I should like you, please, to see if they are all there," he said.
"That isn't the least necessary," Cyril hastened to assure him.
"You would greatly oblige me by doing so."
"I'm quite sure they are all right; besides if any are missing, they were probably stolen in Paris," said Cyril.
"But I insist." Stuart-Smith was nothing if not persistent. His keen eyes had noted Cyril's agitation and his reluctance to open the bag made the doctor all the more determined to force him to do so.
But Cyril was too quick for him. Seizing the bag, he made for the door.