"Now I will propose three propositions against yours. First, the jewels belonged to an idol, and were either sold or stolen—the contessa does not know which. Such things are not usually sold, so we may assume they were stolen. Their disappearance from the hotel may mean that they have merely been recovered. The idea is romantic, but such happenings do occur. Your French maid may have been pressed into the plot either through fear or by bribery."
"My facts would fit that theory," I said.
"Secondly, the husband may be concerned," Quarles went on. "There may be real love underlying his jealousy, he may think that if he can obtain possession of the pearls his wife will return to him. Again, your French maid may have been employed to this end."
"That theory would not refute my facts," I returned.
"Thirdly, the contessa herself. It is conceivable that for some reason she wished to have the pearls stolen, perhaps for the sake of advertisement—such things are done—or for the sake of insurance money, or for some other reason which is not apparent. This supposition would account for the contessa refusing to believe anything against the maid. It would also account for the men in the corridor, seen only by the contessa, remember, and therefore, perhaps, without any real existence."
"Of the three propositions, I most favor the last," I said.
"So do I," Quarles answered. "The first one is possible, but I fail to trace anything of the Oriental method in the robbery, the supreme subtlety which one would naturally expect. The second, which would almost of necessity require the help of the maid, would in all likelihood have been carried out before this, since the contessa has always had the pearls at hand. If she had only just got them out of the bank I should favor this second proposition. You remember the contessa suggested that her husband might at some time become more sensible. I should hazard a guess that she is still in communication with him. The death of the strife-stirring mother may bring them together again."
"That is rather an ingenious idea," I admitted.
"Now, the third proposition would appeal to me more were I not so interested in the woman," Quarles said. "Is she the sort of woman, for vain or selfish reasons, to enter into such a conspiracy with her maid? I grant the difficulty of plumbing a woman's mind—even Zena's there; but there are certain principles to be followed. A woman is usually thorough if she undertakes to do a thing, and had the contessa been concerned in such a conspiracy, we should have had far more detail given to us in order to lead us in another direction. This third proposition does not please me, therefore."
"It seems to me we come back to the French maid," said Zena.