before she
could speak. And instead of beginning luncheon, Angela went upstairs to
take from its diamond frame her father's miniature. On the gold back of
this frame there was an inscription: "Angela, on her eleventh birthday,
from her father. The day before she sails." And it was because of the
inscription that she could not have offered the frame to an ordinary
person as security, no matter how desperately she had wanted a loan. But
Mr. Nickson Hilliard was not an ordinary person.
VII
A POLICE MYSTERY
It was a blow to Nick to be told that there was little hope of finding the
lost bag. He had pledged himself to "see the thing through," but he had
reasons--immensely important reasons they seemed to him--for wishing to
leave New Orleans next day.
So far as was known, Cohensohn was an honest man. There was nothing
against him, and his shop could not be searched by the police. All they
could do was to get a description of the people who had called between the
times of Mrs. May's going out and coming in. But ten chances to one, like
most women, she had mislaid her bag somewhere else, or left it at home.
Nick did not like these insinuations against the sex to which an angel
deigned to belong; but he took them quietly, and instructed the police to
offer five-hundred dollars reward for the bag alone, or a thousand with
the contents intact. Then he went back and had lunch with Mrs. May, which
was, without exception, the most exquisite experience of his life. Yet he
did not know what he ate, or afterward, whether he had eaten anything at
all--unless it was some bread which, with bitter disgust at his bad
manners, he vaguely remembered crumbling on the table.
He was cheered, however, by a plan he had, and by the inscription on
Angela's miniature frame. He would have hated the thing if it had been her
husband's.
Evening came and there was no news of the missing bag. There were not even
any satisfactory clues.
When Nick heard this he thought very hard for a few minutes, and then
inquired at what time the shops closed. He was told; and consulting his
watch, realized that they would shut in less than an hour.
"What's the name of the best jewellery store in this town?" he wanted to
know.
There were several which ranked about the same, and scribbling three or
four names on his shirt-cuff, he rushed off to find the first.
"Got any gold handbags?" he asked in a low voice, as if he had something
to conceal
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