Ralph considered. Then he said in a very serious voice: “I advise you to keep this business a dead secret. If you don’t, it may have very unpleasant results—not for you, but for your mother. It’s uncommonly odd that she should have rings, of no great value in themselves perhaps, but of extraordinary historical interest, hidden in her house.”
Bridget was alarmed and cried: “I’m quite ready to give them up!”
“There’s no point in that. Take care of the stones. I’m going to demand, in your name the restitution of the rings. Where does this gentleman live?”
“Rue de Vangirard.”
“What’s his name?”
“Beaumagnan.”
“Good. And one last word of advice,” said Ralph. “Leave this house. It is too isolated. And for some time—say for a month—go and live with your maid at an hotel. And don’t receive strange visitors. Is it agreed?”
“Yes.”
He left her, shutting the door behind him; and they went downstairs. Josephine waited for him in the street while he released Valentine.
When he came out, Josephine slipped her arm through his. She seemed greatly disturbed and to have forgotten her anger and desire for revenge.