“I hoped it wasn’t so,” she said brokenly. “When you escaped yesterday morning, and when tonight I found the necklace—I was so glad!”
“Then you did find it?” he demanded promptly.
She gave him a look of contempt. “You know it!”
“My dear child,” he expostulated insincerely, “what makes you say that?”
“You don’t mean to pretend you didn’t steal the bandbox from me, just now, in that taxicab, trying to get the necklace?” she demanded.
He waited an instant, then shrugged. “I presume denial would be useless.”
“Quite.”
“All right then: I won’t deny anything.”
She moved away from the telephone to a chair wherein she dropped as if exhausted, hands knitted together in her lap, her chin resting on her chest.
“You see,” said the man, “I wanted to spare you the knowledge that you were being held up by your fond parent.”