Mr. Larkin gave a slight movement an almost imperceptible straightening up of his body:
"Do you mean that you suspect some one?"
Suzanne looked at the arm of her chair and then smoothed its linen cover with delicate finger tips. A very slight color deepened the artificial rose of her cheek.
"I'm afraid I do," she murmured.
"Afraid?"
She nodded, closing her eyes with the movement. She had the appearance of a person distressed but resolute.
"I can't help suspecting some one that I don't like to suspect. And that's why I want your assistance."
"I don't quite understand, Mrs. Price."
"This is the explanation. If it were known that this person was guilty it would ruin and destroy them. My idea is to be sure that they did it—have evidence—and then tell my mother. We could keep quiet about it, get the jewels back and not have the thief disgraced and sent to jail."
"Oh, I see. You want to face the party with a knowledge of their guilt, have them restore the jewels, and let the matter drop."