“Thank you,” dryly. Fordyce regarded his visitors in incredulous silence for some seconds, then excusing himself, stepped past them into the hall. Mrs. Calhoun-Cooper exchanged an uneasy glance with her daughter, but had not opportunity to voice her thoughts, for Calderon Fordyce re-entered the room almost immediately, followed by Marjorie, whom he met returning from her shopping expedition.
“As your statements were not made in confidence, Mrs. Calhoun-Cooper,” he said, “I must ask you to repeat them before Miss Langdon.”
Marjorie, having received no inkling as to why her presence was desired in the library, gazed from one to the other in bewilderment and growing dread.
Mrs. Calhoun-Cooper flushed and her eyes flashed angrily. “I shall have no hesitancy in repeating my charges”—Marjorie’s start was not lost on the others. “Miss Langdon, I demand that you instantly return my pearl necklace which you stole from me last night at the ball.”
“You’re mad!” burst out Marjorie. “I haven’t your necklace.”
“Lies won’t do, my girl!” Mrs. Calhoun-Cooper’s native coarseness was gaining the upper hand under the pressure of excitement and rage which almost mastered her. “I felt you fumbling with the clasp of the necklace.”
“Indeed? And why didn’t you speak of it at the time?”
“Because my attention was distracted, and when I turned back to speak to you, you had vanished.”
“With the necklace,” added Pauline.
“Not so fast!” Marjorie’s indignation almost choked her utterance, and she stopped to regain control of her voice. “The robbery took place while I was still at the supper-table, ten stories beneath the ballroom.”