last."

"Say it I am nothing if not indulgent."

He had spoken the word. Indulgent, that was it. He let me speak,
probably had let me speak from the first, from pure kindness. He did not
believe one little bit in my good sense or logic. But I was not to be
deterred. I would empty my mind of the ugly thing that lay there. I
would leave there no miserable dregs of doubt to ferment and work their
evil way with me in the dead watches of the night, which I had yet to
face. So I took him at his word.

"I only want to ask this. In case Sears is innocent of the crime, who
wrote the warning and where did the assassin get the stiletto with the
Grey arms chased into its handle? And the diamond? Still the diamond!
You hint that he stole that, too. That with some idea of its proving
useful to him on this gala occasion, he had provided himself with an
imitation stone, setting and all,--he who has never shown, so far as
we have heard, any interest in Mrs. Fairbrother's diamond, only in Mrs.
Fairbrother herself. If Wellgood is Sears and Sears the medium by which
the false stone was exchanged for the real, then he made this exchange
in Mr. Grey's interests and not his own. But I don't believe he had
anything to do with it. I think everything goes to show that the
exchange was made by Mr. Grey himself."

"A second Daniel," muttered the inspector lightly. "Go on, little
lawyer!" But for all this attempt at banter on his part, I imagined that
I saw the beginning of a very natural anxiety to close the conversation.
I therefore hastened with what I had yet to say, cutting my words short
and almost stammering in my eagerness.

"Remember the perfection of that imitation stone, a copy so exact that
it extends to the setting. That shows plan--forgive me if I repeat
myself--preparation, a knowledge of stones, a particular knowledge of
this one. Mr. Fairbrother's steward may have had the knowledge, but he
would have been a fool to have used his knowledge to secure for himself
a valuable he could never have found a purchaser for in any market. But
a fancier--one who has his pleasure in the mere possession of a
unique and invaluable gem--ah! that is different! He might risk a
crime--history tells us of several."

Here I paused to take breath, which gave the inspector chance to say:

"In other words, this is what you think. The Englishman, desirous of
covering up his tracks, conceived the idea of having this imitation
on hand, in case it mig