“Yes, but dismounted,” said Miss Willow. “Don’t be soppy. This table isn’t round. . . . And now listen. Entirely between you and me, I want to break off my engagement.” “Julia darling!” “That’s better,” said Miss Willow. “Now listen again. I tell you I want to break it, and so I do. But I can’t do it.” “Why on earth not?” cried Fulke. “Because I’ve lost my ring. It was a perfectly beautiful ring—an enormous solitaire emerald. Heaven knows what it was worth. And of course I can’t possibly fire Hubert without handing it back.” George found his moustache and pulled it respectfully. “But supposing,” he said, “supposing you can’t find it.” “I _must_ find it,” said Julia. “At least, you must.” She produced a sheaf of papers. “There are some ‘orders to view.’ The ring’s in one of those flats—or houses: I don’t know which. I may have dropped it in a taxi, but I don’t think so. All you’ve got to do is to go and ask to see over these places as if you wanted to take them. Then, while you’re being shown round, you can look for the ring.” Fulke received the papers with a bewildered air. “I see,” he said slowly, counting. “Ten. You’ve no idea which, of course.” “Not the remotest,” said Julia, sipping her coffee. “But you might find it in the first.” “I might, of course,” said Fulke thoughtfully. “Have you been to Scotland Yard?” “Not yet,” said Julia. “Well, I’ll go there first,” said George. “Just in case——” “No, I’ll go to Scotland Yard. You must start on the flats. There isn’t a moment to lose. Supposing a caretaker found it.” “They’d probably take it to the police.” “They’d probably freeze on to it,” said Julia. “I know I should. It’s a most beautiful ring.” Fulke drank some champagne. “I think,” he said uneasily, “I think when I ask to see over, I’d better say why I’ve come.” “Why?” “Well, they’ll think I’m mad or something—staring all over the floors.” “Not if you do it properly. You see, my dear, you mustn’t give it away. If you do, they won’t half show you round, and the moment you’re gone they’ll go through the place with a tooth-comb.” “All right,” said Fulke gloomily. “I don’t care. Only, if I do find it there’ll be a hell of a row. They’re bound to see me pick it up, and if it looks as valuable as you say it is——” “Then you can explain,” said Julia, lighting a cigarette. “Once it’s found, you can tell them that that’s what you came for. The great thing is to find it.” “Yes, I know that,” said Fulke. “It’s the goin’ I’m thinkin’ about. If I don’t find it, they’ll think I’m mad: if I do find it, they’ll think I’m a thief: and if I try to explain, they’ll probably knock me down. . . . However, if it’s going to bring you freedom . . .” “That’s a dear,” said Julia. There was a moment’s silence. Then— “Look here,” said George suddenly. “Why did you send for me?” Miss Willow, who had been about to drink, set down her cup. “Because I knew you would help.” “Why?” “Because you love me,” said Julia boldly.