"I told _them_," replied the detective grimly, indicating with his head the whole world of the house. "I told _them_ I was telephoning to Scotland Yard; but I wasn't. I was telephoning to our head-office. Then am I to take it you want to find out all you can, but you want it smothered?" "Not at all. I have no reason for hushing anything up." The detective gazed at him in a harsh, lower-middle-class way, and Mr. Prohack quailed a little before that glance. "Will you please tell me where you bought the necklace?" "I really forget. Somewhere in Bond Street." "Oh! I see," said the detective. "A necklace of forty-nine pearls, over half of them stated to be as big as peas, and it's slipped your memory where you bought it." The detective yawned. "And I'm afraid I haven't kept the receipt either," said Mr. Prohack. "I have an idea the firm went out of business soon after I bought the necklace. At least I seem to remember noticing the shop shut up and then opening again as something else." "No jeweller ever goes out of business in Bond Street," said the detective, and yawned once more. "Well, Mr. Prohack, I don't think I need trouble you any more to-night. If you or Mrs. Prohack will call at our head-office during the course of to-morrow you shall have our official report, and if anything really fresh should turn up I'll telephone you immediately. Good night, Mr. Prohack." The man bowed rather awkwardly as he rose from the bed, and departed. "That chap thinks there's something fishy between Eve and me," reflected Mr. Prohack. "I wonder whether there is!" But he was still in high spirits when Eve came back into the room. "The sleuth-hound has fled," said he. "I must have given him something to think about." "I've tried all the keys and none of them will fit," Eve complained. "And yet you're always grumbling at me for not keeping my keys in order. If you wanted to show him the blue paper why have you let him go?" "My dear," said Mr. Prohack, "I didn't let him go. He did not consult me, but merely and totally went." "And what is the blue paper?" Eve demanded. "Well, supposing it was the receipt for what I paid for the pearls?" "Oh! I see. But how would that help?" "It wouldn't help," Mr. Prohack replied. "My broken butterfly, you may as well know the worst. The sleuth-hound doesn't hold out much hope." "Yes," said Eve. "And you seem delighted that I've lost my pearls! I know what it is. You think it will be a lesson for me, and you love people to have lessons. Why! Anybody might lose a necklace." "True. Ships are wrecked, and necklaces are lost, and Nelson even lost his eye." "And I'm sure it _was_ one of the servants." "My child, you can be just as happy without a pearl necklace as with one. You really aren't a woman who cares for vulgar display. Moreover, in times like these, when society seems to be toppling over, what is a valuable necklace, except a source of worry? Felicity is not to be attained by the--" Eve screamed.