"But hell's bells! Don't you understand? What's going to happen when Molly tries to sell that necklace and it comes out that it's a fake?"
Hamilton Beamish shook his head. With most of the ordinary problems of life he was prepared to cope, but this, he frankly admitted, was beyond him.
"My wife'll murder me."
"I'm sorry."
"I came here, thinking that you would be able to suggest something."
"Short of stealing the necklace and dropping it in the Hudson River, I fear I can think of no solution."
"You used to be a brainy sort of gink," said Mr. Waddington reproachfully.
"No human brain could devise a way out of this impasse. You can but wait events and trust to Time the great healer eventually to mend matters."
"That's a lot of help."
Hamilton Beamish shrugged his shoulders. Sigsbee H. Waddington regarded the stock-certificates malevolently.