“Why, no,” the girl said hesitating and seemingly confused. “No, I didn’t.” She was now staring at her interrogator with real fear in her eyes.
“Well, that doesn’t make any difference,” he said genially, “so long as the jewels were stolen and not merely mislaid, does it?”
“No,” she said with a sigh of relief.
“There’s one other point,” he said, turning to the elder sister. “You received the compensation money from the company, didn’t you?”
“Naturally,” she said tranquilly.
“Please don’t think me impertinent,” he said, “but you still have it intact, I presume?”
“Only part,” the girl returned. “I gave half of it to my sister.”
“I rather thought you might have done that,” he purred as though his especial hobby was discovering affection in other families, “That was a very nice generous thing to do, Miss Cartwright. But you realize of course that if I get your jewels back the money must be returned to the Burglar Insurance people in full,”—he looked significantly at the shrinking younger girl,—“from both of you.”
Amy Cartwright clasped her hands nervously. “Oh, I couldn’t do that,” she exclaimed.
Ethel turned to her in astonishment.