“You wanted me, Ethel?” she asked.
“Yes, dear,” the elder returned. “Amy, this is Mr. Taylor, who thinks he may be able to get back my diamonds for me.”
Amy Cartwright shot a quick, almost furtive look at Taylor and then gripped her sister’s arm. “Your diamonds!” she cried.
Taylor had missed nothing of her anxious manner. “Yes,” he said. “Your sister has been kind enough to give me some information in reference to the theft, and I thought you might be able to add to the facts we already have.”
“I?” the younger girl exclaimed.
“Yes,” her sister commanded. “You must answer all Mr. Taylor’s questions.”
“Of course,” Amy said with an effort to be cheerful.
Taylor looked at her magisterially. “How did you discover your sister’s jewels were stolen?”
“Why,” she replied nervously, not meeting his eye, “I went to her dressing-table one morning and they weren’t there.”
“Oh!” he exclaimed meaningly. “So they weren’t there! Then what did you do?”