"But who allowed you to enter?" she demanded. "I do not receive here. I will send for the manager. It is an impertinence when people come to my room without permission." Mr. Brodie held out his hand deprecatingly. "Miss Larilly," he begged, "pray do not disturb yourself. I am one of those who must go anywhere they choose, at any time." "Indeed!" she exclaimed indignantly. "You are not the owner of the theatre or the author of the revue, and I do not know you. I beg you to leave at once." "Young lady," Mr. Brodie continued, his eyes fastened upon the gem which hung from her neck, "I have not the good fortune to be either of the gentlemen you mention, but I represent a force which has to be reckoned with by law-abiding people. I am of the police." She stood quite still. Once more her hands clutched at the jewel which rested on her bosom. "The police?" she repeated. "But I do not understand! What do you----what do the police want with me in my room?" "Now come, Miss Larilly," Mr. Brodie went on soothingly, "it's nothing you need worry about. I just want your permission to examine the jewel which you are wearing." "No!" she refused sharply. "No one shall do that. The jewel has been lent to me, lent to me on one condition--that I permit no one to touch it." "Look here, young lady," Brodie protested, quietly but forcibly, "I don't want to make any disturbance, and I'd sooner deal with this matter in a friendly fashion. All the same, if you're out for trouble, I can soon bring you plenty of it. Come, it won't take you long to slip that off your neck." She began to look a little frightened. She glanced towards Henriette as though for guidance. Henriette, however, seemed almost on the point of breaking down herself. She had sunk into the chair which Aaron had fetched. "Courage," Aaron whispered in her ear. "That brute is watching you." Brodie had drawn closer to Mademoiselle Larilly. She held her hands tightly against her bosom. "If you come a step further," she cried, "I will shriek! I will call the artistes to defend me--the manager! You must come to me when I am not playing, if you would ask questions." "Young lady," the detective said with a new sternness, "you can call the manager, if you will, and I shall repeat to him what I say to you. If you do not suffer me to examine that jewel, I shall stop the performance and have you taken to the police-station." She was obviously terrified now. The rouge upon her cheeks seemed like a great daub of red. She set her teeth, her hands flew apart. "It is a miserable country!" she exclaimed passionately. "In France this could not happen. Look, then, at the stone, and go, but remember--I will give it up to no one. If you take it, you must drag it from my neck and I will follow you, shrieking, even on to the stage. I will not be robbed! How do I know that you are of the police? You may be a thief yourself! The stone--I tell you that it is worth a fortune."