When Priscilla had finished this letter she raised a white and startled face. Her eyes saw Mr Manchuri’s, who, on his part, was trying to read her through.
“What do you make of it?” he said.
“I never heard of the necklace,” she said.
“Well, perhaps you heard something else or you noticed something else. Were you sitting in the garden of the Hotel Belle Vue just before déjeuner on the day that you and I left Interlaken?”
“Yes,” said Priscilla.
“I remember quite well now,” considered the old man, “that I noticed you from where I myself was sitting on the terrace. I saw Miss Brooke go up to you, and presently you went away. Then I joined Miss Brooke.”
“Yes,” said Priscilla.
“You have not the least idea what occurred, have you, Priscilla, when Miss Brooke and I were alone?”
“I have not the faintest idea,” said Priscilla.
“Well, I will tell you,” said the old man.