"Thank you. Now there is one thing more I very much wish, for reasons which no doubt you will know in good time, to see or hear the report of Mr. Jerry Belknap, private detective. This I know, is asking much, but you will have no cause to regret it if you enable me to obtain this knowledge."
Constance looked perplexed, and hesitated in her answer.
"You distrust Mr. Belknap," she said finally. "I thought—"
He throws up his hand somewhat impatiently.
"You jump at conclusions," he interrupted; "a detective's motives must be taken for granted. It is not distrust that causes me to ask this favor; I could not tell you my reason without unraveling a long web, and it is not time to begin the process; I am still in the realm of conjecture. So you won't help me to the result of Mr. Belknap's investigation, Miss Wardour? I am sorry; it would save time for me, for I fully intend to find it out in some way."
Constance smiled in spite of herself; she admired this man's cool way of mastering the situation; she felt that it would be policy to let him have his way, since he would take it whether she would or no. But the imp of caprice had not quite deserted her, and now he goaded her on to her own downfall. Looking up suddenly, she asked:
"Mr. Bathurst, why did you ask me if I suspected who stole my diamonds?"
"I didn't," smiling oddly.
Constance stared.
"I asked if you guessed who the robbers were."