“Well, you’ll find I’m right,” said Freddie, weightily. “And that’s why we shall be flooded out with police and detectives. Obviously they’ve simply got to get it back. Nobody cares to lose £50,000.”
Nina was plainly taken aback by the figure.
“I should think not. I’d no idea it was worth so much. What a loss for poor Mr. Dangerfield.”
“Well, he’ll have to stand it, if the thing isn’t recovered,” said Freddie, philosophically.
“It makes me frightfully nervous,” admitted Nina. “Just think, Cynthia, that burglar may have been prowling about near us in the night. It gives me the creeps!”
“Oh, that’s all over now,” Cynthia soothed her. “You’re too nervous, Nina. If it has been a burglar, he’s not in the least likely to come back again. You can sleep quite quietly so far as that goes.”
Freddie hastened to play the part of consoler.
“I don’t think you need worry. There’s nothing much else in the house. The Dangerfields haven’t a big stock of jewellery. The Talisman was about the only thing worth taking in the whole place.”
“Well, I’m ever so sorry about it,” Nina reaffirmed. “It makes everything different to-day. Friocksheim won’t be the same, with this hanging over it. How could one enjoy oneself when this has happened?”
“Oh, one does what one can,” Freddie reassured her. “Worrying won’t help.”