He displayed the card-board box, round which he had again drawn the rubber ring, and handing it to the Countess:
"Take care of that till to-morrow morning, will you, dear lady?"
"Why should I take care of it and not you?"
"It wouldn't be the same thing," said he. "To place it in your hands is as it were to affix a seal to it. To-morrow, at lunch, we'll open it together."
"Do you make a point of it?"
"Yes. It's an idea ... of sorts."
"Very good," said the Countess. "I accept the charge if mademoiselle authorizes me to do so."
"I ask it, madame," replied Dorothy, grasping the fact that the danger was postponed till the morrow. "The box contains nothing of importance, only white pebbles and shells. But since it amuses monsieur, and he wants a check on it, give him this small satisfaction."
There remained, however, a formality which the inspector considered essential in inquiries of this kind. The examination of identification papers, delivery of documents, compliance with the regulations, were matters which he took very seriously indeed. On the other hand, if Dorothy surmised the existence of a secret between the Count and Countess and their cousins, it is certain that her hosts were not less puzzled by the strange personality which for an hour or two had dominated and disturbed them. Who was she? Where did she come from? What was her real name? What was the explanation of the fact that this distinguished and intelligent creature, with her supple cleverness and distinguished manners, was wandering about the country with four street-boys?
She took from a locker in the caravan a passport-case which she carried under her arm; and when they all went into the orangery which was now empty, she took from this case a sheet of paper black with signatures and stamps and handed it to the inspector.