“One moment, please. When I came here to search for a hiding place for the jewels, the necklace had not yet been concealed here. I doubt if I would have discovered it, if it had been. But, as I left the room, I met him. He turned and ran away. I followed him quickly, but nevertheless I remembered, afterward—while I was seated in my own room to-night, in fact—that in leaving this room I saw on the mantel at the opposite side of the hall a vase that had not been there before. I saw it, and noticed it, only from force of habit in taking particular notice of the furnishings of every place where I happen to be. “I could not have told you what vase it was. I could not have described it. I was merely conscious of the fact that such a thing was there—and that, later, when I came to the hallway out there particularly to look for that extra vase, to see if it was still in the place where I had seen it, it had disappeared. “And so, madam, when we all entered this room a little while ago, I used my eyes in looking at vases. I saw that the vase that was just now broken was not in the position that it was when I supposed I had seen it last. It was not exposed to view in precisely the same way; and while I was talking, I changed my position somewhat, so that I could see behind it. “It was then, madam, that I noticed the fact that this vase here had been broken, and mended; also that it was a long time since it had been mended. _I knew that the vase that was here when I came to this room earlier had not been broken and mended._ “Do you see the deduction? “There must have been two vases just alike, one of which had been broken and mended—and the one that had been broken and mended, had been, during that short time, exchanged for the perfect one. “It was only necessary, then, to establish the point that the other vase had been kept in the room occupied by Jimmy Duryea, or Mr. Dinwiddie as you know him. Your answers to my questions established that fact. “A moment later, when you said that there was something white inside the vase that had not been there before—something resembling plaster of Paris—the solution of what remained of the problem was apparent. “Some years ago there was a great robbery in a jewelry store, in Paris. Afterward those jewels were discovered, imbedded in plaster of Paris, at the bottom of two huge vases that were ornaments in that store. That robbery was committed by the scapegrace younger son of a good family in England, whose people hushed the thing up and permitted him to go to South Africa on condition that he would never return. In South Africa, he changed his name to James Duryea; afterward he came to this country, and was known here as Bare-Faced Jimmy; still later, he wormed his way into your household under the name of Ledger Dinwiddie.” Mrs. Remsen came nearer to the detective.