“Dear Miss Turner,
“I put the money on Averstone as you said. So sorry he wasn’t placed. He got away badly and had no luck from the start. In haste,
“Yours sincerely,
“J. Sidney.”
“Thanks, I think that is all I want just now,” said Gimblet, and he turned to leave the room. But Amélie was in no mind to let him go like that. She had hoped for some confidences, that she might have a theory to retail downstairs.
“If Monsieur will listen to my idea,” she said, “I will tell him what I believe has happened to Madame. She has been killed for the sake of her jewels. That is what I think. And it would be prudent before making so many inquiries that one should look for her on the floor of her box at the opera. It is probable that she is there, la pauvre, just as they struck her down and left her!”
“Thank you for your suggestion,” replied Gimblet gravely. “I assure you that I will not neglect to visit the box. But I think that the bodies of two ladies, ‘struck down’ in it, would have called forth some expression of astonishment on the part of the caretakers.”
“Monsieur is laughing at me,” began Amélie in injured tones, but Gimblet was already half-way down the stairs.
On the landing outside the drawing-room door Blake was still hovering.
“Ah, there you are,” Gimblet said. “Can I see the second footman now? Thomas, I think you said he was called.”
Thomas, being summoned, proved to be a tall lad possessing an honest and ingratiating smile, adorning a fair and open countenance.