She shook her head and said slowly: “No, I haven’t!”
Ralph burst out furiously: “That is to say, you don’t trust me. It’s a splendid affair; you wish to keep it entirely to yourself. Right. We’ll be going. You will have a clearer view of the situation outside.”
With that he caught her in his arms and swung her over his shoulder as he had done at their first meeting at the foot of the cliff and, so burdened, walked towards the door.
“Stop!” she said.
This feat of strength, accomplished with an incredible ease, finished her taming. She felt that she had better not provoke him further.
He set her down on her feet. She sank on to a chair and said: “What is it you want to know?”
“Everything. First of all the reason for your coming here and for that scoundrel’s murdering Bridget Rousselin.”
“The bandeau with the stones in it,” she said.
“But they’re worthless—imitation garnets, imitation topazes, opals, beryls——”
“Yes. But there are seven of them.”