Like one handing his own death warrant, Colonel Beach put down some telegraph forms. Reggie pulled out his pencil, laid it down again and took some marmalade. “Valuable necklace, of course, Mrs. Faulks?” he said blandly. “Quite so. The one you wore the night before last? I remember. I remember.” He described it. Mrs. Faulks approved and elaborated his description. “That’s very clear. Are your jewels insured? Yes, well that is a certain consolation.” He adjusted his pencil and wrote. “I think this will meet the case.” He gave the telegram to Mrs. Faulks. Mrs. Faulks read it, Mrs. Faulks seemed unable to understand. She continued to gaze at it, and the wondering company saw her grow red to the frozen coils of her hair. Reggie was making notes on another telegraph form. He read out slowly a precise description of the lost necklace. “That’s it, then,” he said. “By the way, who are you insured with?” Mrs. Faulks glared at him. “I suppose this is another joke.” “No,” Reggie shook his head. “This has gone beyond a joke.” “Where is my brooch, then? Who has my brooch?” “I have,” said Reggie. He pulled it out of his pocket and laid it on her plate. “I found the brooch in the passage. I didn’t find the necklace, Mrs. Faulks. So I should like to send that telegram.” “You will do nothing of the kind. I won’t have anything done. The whole affair is disgraceful, perfectly disgraceful. I forbid you to interfere. Do you understand, I forbid it? Colonel Beach! It is impossible for me to stay in your house after the way in which you have allowed me to be treated. Please order the car.” She stalked out of the room. “Fortune!” said Faulks thunderously. “Will you kindly explain yourself?” “I don’t think I need explaining. But you might ask your mother. She kept the telegram.” And to his mother Mr. Faulks fled. “Good God, Fortune, what have you done?” Tom Beach groaned. “Not a nice woman,” said Reggie sadly. “Not really a nice woman.” He stood up and sought the fire and lit a cigar and sighed relief. “Mr. Fortune, what was in that telegram?” Sally cried. Reggie sat down on the cushioned fender. “I don’t think you’re really a good little girl, you know,” he shook his head at her and surveyed the company. “Broadly speakin’ you ought all to be ashamed of yourselves. Except the Colonel.” “Please, Mr. Fortune, I’ll never do it again,” said Alice plaintively. “Tom----” she sat on the arm of her husband’s chair and caressed him. “All right, all right,” he submitted. “But I say, Fortune, what am I to do about Mrs. Faulks?” “She’s done all there is to do. No, not a nice woman.” Sally held out her small hands. “Please! What did you say in that telegram?” “‘Lomas, Scotland Yard. Jewel robbery Colonel Beach’s house curious features tell post office stop delivery registered packet posted Cranston this morning nine examine contents Reginald Fortune Cranston Regis.’” “I don’t understand.”