The Duke laughed, an unaffected ringing laugh, but not a pleasant one: “It’s absurd!” he cried.
“There are always those thefts,” said Guerchard, with a nettled air.
“You have nothing to go upon,” said M. Formery. “What if she did enter the service of Mademoiselle Gournay-Martin just before the thefts began? Besides, after this lapse of time, if she had committed the thefts, you’d find it a job to bring them home to her. It’s not a job worth your doing, anyhow—it’s a job for an ordinary detective, Guerchard.”
“There’s always the pendant,” said Guerchard. “I am convinced that that pendant is in the house.”
“Oh, that stupid pendant! I wish I’d never given it to Mademoiselle Gournay-Martin,” said the Duke lightly.
“I have a feeling that if I could lay my hand on that pendant—if I could find who has it, I should have the key to this mystery.”
“The devil you would!” said the Duke softly. “That is odd. It is the oddest thing about this business I’ve heard yet.”
“I have that feeling—I have that feeling,” said Guerchard quietly.
The Duke smiled.