“Oh, very well,” laughed Molly, “and I suppose you’ll polish them up so carefullee that some day you’ll be admirals in the Queen’s Navee.”
“Nothing less,” said Madeleine. “It’s my theory exactly.”
“Oh, Molly,” called the voice of Millicent from the den, “please come and help me with this stupid thing. I can’t seem to get it straight.”
And that was how Molly came to be admitted into Millicent’s inner sanctum where she kept her most valued possessions under lock and key.
The top of a heavy oak chest rested against the wall and inside was a perfect mine of silver articles, many of them Millicent’s own work; there was also a quantity of small ivory figures collected by her in her travels.
“I’ll lift out the things and call their names and you can copy each one twice, like this: one silver necklace—grape-vine design.”
Molly sat down and began to make the list. They were nearly finished when Rosomond Chase’s voice was heard in the next room.
“Millicent, please come out for a moment. I want to see you on business.”
Molly, left alone, went on with the list, taking each article from the box and noting it carefully twice on the inventory.
In the meantime Millicent and her friend were having a secret conference in the bedroom, while Madeleine and Judith silently waited in the studio. The two silver-rubbers were presently startled by the apparition of Molly standing in the doorway. She had the look of one fleeing before a storm, her face very pale and her eyes dilated with horror. She started to speak, but checked herself and closed the door behind her. Then, hurrying into the room, she said in a low, strained voice: