She turned pale, and yet she ought to have expected it.
“You don’t mean——” she began.
“But I do, though. Which is your room, madam?”
She told me.
It was close to the door of that room that I met Mr. Opdyke with his cigars.
Mrs. Welton took my advice.
“I’ll wait for you at the foot of the stairs,” I whispered.
In a moment she came back, looking paler still.
“Every diamond has been taken,” she whispered, excitedly, “and you know the thief?”
“Pardon me, madam; I only suspect.”