However, he gave his consent, and the day following the appearance of the advertisement I heard from him that the necklace had been returned.
I had told him that when I came to see the stones it would be necessary to bring a fellow officer with me, so there was no need to explain Quarles's presence when we went to Hill Street.
The necklace had been packed in wadding in a small, flat, wooden box, had come through the post, unregistered, and had been posted in London. The writing on the brown paper covering was evidently disguised, and might be either a man's or a woman's.
Quarles examined it with a lens, but made no comment.
"You did not expect to regain possession of the necklace so easily, Lord Leconbridge," he said, looking at the stones.
"No."
"A curious robbery, and, since the jewels have been returned, a curious reason for it exists, no doubt. I suppose you cannot give us any helpful suggestion in that direction?"
"No."
"Of course, we have promised not to worry the person responsible any further, but for our own satisfaction——" And then, after a pause, he added: "I suppose it would be a satisfaction to you to get at the exact truth?"
"I don't quite follow the drift of your question," said Leconbridge.