"My dear Wigan, I am afraid you are still laboring under the impression that she stole the pearls."
"I am, and that she handed them to the men in the corridor, one of whom may have been her brother or may not."
"She didn't steal them," said Quarles.
"Why, how else could the men have got in?" I said. "You are not likely to see that rewarding smile on the contessa's face which you talked about."
"I think I shall, but first I must face the music and explain my failure.
We will go this afternoon. Perhaps she will give us tea, Wigan."
I am afraid I murmured, "There's no fool like an old fool," but not loud enough for Quarles to hear.
When we entered the contessa's sitting-room that afternoon the child was playing on the floor with a small china vase, taken haphazard from the mantelpiece, I imagine.
Whether our entrance startled her, or whether she was in a destructive mood, I cannot say, but she dashed down the vase and broke it in pieces.
"Oh, Nella! Naughty, naughty Nella!" exclaimed her mother.
The child immediately went to Quarles.