By a sudden movement he trod on Nap’s tail, and the dog howled. I broke off to comfort him.
“Go on, go on,” said Mr. Rayner, touching my arm impatiently.
“What was I saying? Oh, I know—about Mrs. Cunningham’s jewels. She has one set of what they call cat’s-eyes and large diamonds, which she keeps—”
“That she keeps where?” said Mr. Rayner, yawning, as if tired.
“Oh, that she keeps always concealed about her person!” said I.
“Do you mean it?” he asked, much interested.
“Yes, really. She told me so. And nobody in the house, not even her maid, knows where they are. She sleeps with them under her pillow.”
Mr. Rayner rose.
“Well, I don’t think even the responsibility of diamonds under your pillow would keep you awake to-night, for you must be tired out.”
He was fidgeting about the room, as if he were anxious to get to bed too. But he did not look sleepy; his eyes were quite bright and restless. He gave me my candle.