n him by the police--ah, that wakes
you up, Mademoiselle! You are surprised that a document was found on the
prisoner?"
I was half fainting with fear lest Ivor had regained the treaty, only to
lose it again in this dreadful way; but I controlled myself.
"I rather hope it was not a letter from me," I said. "You know so much,
that you probably know I admitted to the police at the Elysee Palace a
strong friendship for Mr. Dundas. We knew each other well in London. But
London ways are different from the ways of Paris. It isn't agreeable to
be gossipped about, however unjustly, even if one is--only an actress."
"You turn things cleverly, as always. Yes, you are afraid there might
have been--a letter. Yet the public adores you. It would pardon you any
indiscretion, especially a romantic one--any indiscretion _except
treachery_. There might, however, be a few persons less indulgent. Du
Laurier, for instance."
I shivered. "We were speaking of the scene with the Juge d'Instruction,"
I reminded him. "You have wandered from the point again."
"There are so many points--all sharp as swords for those they may
pierce. Well, the important question was in relation to a letter--yes.
But the letter was not from you, Mademoiselle. It was written in
English, and it made an appointment at the very address where the crime
was committed. It was, as nearly as I could make out, a request from a
person calling himself a jeweller's assistant, for the receiver of the
letter to call and return a case containing jewels. This case had been
committed to Mr. Dundas' care, it appeared, while travelling from London
to Paris, and without his knowledge, another packet being taken away to
make room for this. Mr. Dundas replied to the Juge d'Instruction that
his own packet, stolen from him on the journey, contained nothing but
papers _entirely personal,_ concerning himself alone.
"'What was in the case which the man afterwards murdered slipped into
your pocket?' asked the Juge d'Instruction--Lenormand tells me.
"'A necklace,' answered Mr. Dundas.
"'A necklace of diamonds?'
"'Possibly diamonds, possibly paste, I wasn't much interested in it.'
"'Ah, was this not the necklace which you--staying at the Elysee Palace
under another name--gave to Mademoiselle Maxine de Renzie last evening?'
was the next question thrown suddenly at Mr. Dundas' head. Now, you see,
Mademoiselle, that my story is not dull."
"Am I to hear the rest--according to you
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