Chatham did not notice this. He was too intent on his story.
“Then Harriman came back,” said Chatham. “He wanted me to return the purple sapphire. He offered me twice the amount he had owed me. He seemed insane, the way he pleaded for that cursed stone.
“I refused to give it up.
“Then he told me that the purple sapphire brought ruin to all who owned it. Ever since he had gained it, bad luck had followed him. He talked of the curse of the purple sapphire. He didn’t want it to ruin me as it had ruined him.
“He claimed that attempts had been made on his life — all because of the sapphire. He had virtually given it to me to be rid of it!
“I laughed at all this. It seemed ridiculous — such stuff coming from a man of Harriman’s intelligence.
“When he found that I would not give the sapphire back to him, he made me promise that I would tell no one that I possessed it. Then he went away.
“I never saw him again. He shot himself a few weeks later. No one knew why — but now, I am sure—”
Chatham leaned forward and spoke in a hoarse whisper.
“- it was the curse of the sapphire!”