"Was the ring valuable?" said Slade carefully, with a quiet enjoyment.
Their eyes met a moment—a look incomprehensible to the others.
"It was worth over fifteen thousand dollars," Mrs. Kildair answered, in the buzz of astonishment.
"And what are you going to do about it?"
"I have not minced words," she said, turning her eyes to Maud Lille and back to Garraboy. "There is a thief, and that thief is here in this room. Now, I am not going to stand on ceremony. I am going to have that ring back in one way or another—now. Listen to me carefully. I intend to have that ring back, and, until I do, not a soul shall leave this room."
"A search?" said Slade quietly.
"No," she said instantly, tapping on the table with her nervous knuckles. "I don't care to know the thief—all I want is the ring. And this is the way I am going to get it." She stopped for another quick, searching glance, and continued with cold control:
"I am going to make it possible for whoever took it to restore it to me without possibility of detection. The doors are locked and will stay locked. I am going to put out the lights, and I am going to count one hundred—slowly. You will be in absolute darkness; no one will know or see what is done, and I give my word that I will count the full hundred. There will be no surprise, no turning up of lights. But if, at the end of that time, the ring is not placed here on this table, I shall telephone for detectives and have every one in this room searched. Am I clear?"
The transfer of the candelabrum to the further table had left those of the diners who had remained by the dinner-table in half obscurity. Instantly there was a shifting and a dragging of chairs, a confused jumble of questions and explanations.
Nan Charters for the second time seized the arm of Teddy Beecher. She murmured something which he did not hear. He glanced at her face, and for a moment an incredible suspicion crossed his mind. But the next, as he glanced down the table at the totally unnerved attitude of Mrs. Cheever and Mrs. Bloodgood, he understood better the agitation of his companion.