will go through her things."

"You will not," I said stiffly. "My mistress is out. I will not allow
any of her things to be touched during her absence. That is my duty."

"That's so," said the young American softly.

The excited Jew man almost grimaced with rage. Loudly he demanded: "Out,
is she? 'Out'? Where may that be?"

How ardently I wished that I knew, myself!

But all I said was: "I fail to see that it has got anything to do with
you."

"Probably," said the manager soothingly, "probably when Miss Million
returns she will persuade Miss Smith to be more reasonable."

"They are in league together! It is a put-up job! These two girls ...
Half the hotel's talking about them.... There is something fishy about
them. I will find out what it is," the fat Jew was bubbling, while the
young American took him by the arm and walked him quietly towards the
door. The Scotland Yard man had already unobtrusively disappeared. Last
of all the manager went, with quite a pleasant nod and quite a friendly,
"Well, Miss Smith, I expect you will think better of it presently."

I know that all four of them suspects me! They think that Million and I
know something about this wretched Rattenheimer ruby, or whatever it is.
Perhaps they think that we are in communication with gangs of jewellery
thieves all over Europe? Perhaps they imagine that I am left here to
mount guard over some other loot while Million has gone over for a trip
to Hamburg or Rotterdam, or wherever it is that people do go with stolen
jewels?

And for all I know she may be doing something just as idiotic--the silly
girl, getting her head turned and her hair decorated by moon-calves of
young lords!... Oh! I wish there was any one to whom I could turn for
advice! There is not a soul.

That nice, sensible, reliable Mr. Brace is by this time in Paris. Out of
reach! As for Mr. Burke, he is gallivanting at Brighton, and, of course,
one could not depend upon him, anyhow!

I feel I must go out.

It's evening, which means that Million has been away from the hotel for
twenty-four hours. I have not left it except for that flying visit to
the "Thousand and One" Club.

Get a breath of fresh air before dinner I simply must. My head seems
whirling round and round, and my nerves feel as if something in them has
snapped with a loud twang like a violin string. I shall go out--if they
will let me, but I should not be at all surprised if the manager of the
hotel and the Ratten