"Bring in the next victim, the first chambermaid," he snapped.
Eustace Thorneycroft, who had been acting as a sort of bailiff for Holmes's court of inquisition, now brought in a girl with the same sort of lack of intelligence on her face as had distinguished the Russian Galetchkoff.
"What's your name, there?" said Holmes.
"Natalie Nishovich, and I used to work in King Alexander of Servia's royal palace in Belgrade before his sudden death nine years ago."
"Well, Natalie, have you seen the diamond cuff-buttons lying around loose anywhere?"
"No, sir; but I have an idea that that conceited Spanish girl that just walked out of here stole them,—Teresa Olivano, I mean."
"Hum, have you overheard her talking about the diamonds, or is it just on general principles?" asked Holmes, as Tooter frowned severely at the chambermaid.
"Just on general principles. I don't like her at all."
"All right. Good-by. You've said enough. Call in the next one," ordered Holmes; adding: "They all seem to belong to the 'I-used-to-be' club. You certainly have combed the world looking for variegated characters, Earl. I suppose the next one will be a Chinaman or a Patagonian."
But it wasn't; only a Belgian girl, with dark eyes that couldn't look Holmes straight in the face as he questioned her.