Her husband, already half undressed, demanded:
"What is the matter with you?"
She turned madly toward him:
"I have—I have—I've lost Mme. Forestier's necklace."
He stood up, distracted.
"What!—how?—Impossible!"
And they looked in the folds of her dress, in the folds of her cloak, in her pockets, everywhere. They did not find it.
He asked:
"You're sure you had it on when you left the ball?"
"Yes, I felt it in the vestibule of the palace."