re's the necklace. That's
something."

"Yes, that's something."

"Will Godensky be in the audience, too?" I asked.

"I'm sure he will. He couldn't keep away. But he may be late. He won't
come until he's had a long talk with the Commissary of Police, and tried
to thrash matters out."

"If only your theory's right, then,--if he hasn't dared yet to throw
suspicion on du Laurier, and if the loss of that letter-case with its
contents is as much of a mystery to him as it is to us, we have a little
time before us still: we're comparatively safe for a few hours."

"We're as safe," answered Maxine, with a kind of desperate calmness, "as
if we were in a house with gunpowder stored underneath, and a train laid
to fire it. But"--she broke off bitterly, "why do I say '_we_'. To you
all this can be no more than a regret, a worry."

"You know that's not just!" I reproached her. "I'm in this with you now,
heart and soul. I spoke no more than the truth when I said I'd give my
life, if necessary, to redeem my failure. Already I've given something,
but--"

"What have you given?" she caught me up quickly.

"My hope of happiness with a girl I love as you love du Laurier," I
answered; then regretted my words and would have taken them back if I
could, for she had a heavy enough burden to bear already, without
helping me bear mine.

"I don't understand," she said.

"Don't think of it. You can do nothing; and I don't grudge the
sacrifice--or anything," I hurried on.

"Yet I will think of it, if I ever have time to think of anything beyond
this tangle. But now, it must be _au revoir_. Save me, save Raoul, if
you can, Ivor. What you can do, I don't know. I'm groping in darkness.
Yet you're my one hope. For pity's sake, come to my house when the
play's over, to tell me what you've done, if you've been able to do
anything. Be there at twelve."

"I promise."

"Thank you. I shall live for that moment. Now, give me the diamonds, and
I'll go. I don't want you to be seen with me outside this room."

I gave her the necklace, and she was at the door before I could open it.

CHAPTER VII

IVOR IS LATE FOR AN APPOINTMENT

I was glad to be alone, for as I had said, I wanted to think quietly.

Maxine had taken the diamonds, but she had slipped the necklace into the
bosom of her dress, pressing it down through the rather low-cut opening
at the throat, and had therefore left the leather case. I picked the
thing up from the table w