Slipping quickly into the room through an opening hardly wide enough to admit his spare, small body, the man as quickly shut and locked the door and pocketed the key. This much accomplished, he swung on his heel and, without further movement, fastened his attention anew upon the girl. Standing so--hands clasped loosely before him, his head thrust forward a trifle above his rounded shoulders, pale eyes peering from their network of wrinkles with a semi-humourous suggestion, thin lips curved in an apologetic grin: his likeness to the Mr. Iff known to Staff was something more than striking. One needed to be intimately and recently acquainted with Iff's appearance to be able to detect the almost imperceptible points of difference between the two. Had Staff been there he might have questioned the colour of this man's eyes, which showed a lighter tint than Iff's, and their expression--here vigilant and predatory in contrast with Iff's languid, half-derisive look. The line of the cheek from nose to mouth, too, was deeper and more hard than with Iff; and there was a hint of elevation in the nostrils that lent the face a guise of malice and evil--like the shadow of an impersonal sneer. The look he bent upon Eleanor was almost a sneer: a smile in part contemptuous, in part studious; as though he pondered a problem in human chemistry from the view-point of a seasoned and experienced scientist. He cocked his head a bit to one side and stared insolently beneath half-lowered lids, now and again nodding ever so slightly as if in confirmation of some unspoken conclusion. Against the cold, inflexible purpose in his manner, the pitiful prayer expressed in the girl's attitude spent itself without effect. Her hands dropped to her sides; her head drooped wearily, hopelessly; her pose personified despondency profound and irremediable. When he had timed his silence cunningly, to ensure the most impressive effect, the man moved, shifting from one foot to the other, and spoke. "Well, Nelly ...?" His voice, modulated to an amused drawl, was much like Iff's. The girl's lips moved noiselessly for an instant before she managed to articulate. "So," she said in a quiet tone of horror--"So it was you all the time!" "What was me?" enquired the man inelegantly if with spirit. "I mean," she said, "you _were_ after the necklace, after all." "To be sure," he said pertly. "What did you think?" "I hoped it wasn't so," she said brokenly. "When you escaped yesterday morning, and when tonight I found the necklace--I was so glad!" "Then you did find it?" he demanded promptly. She gave him a look of contempt. "You know it!" "My dear child," he expostulated insincerely, "what makes you say that?" "You don't mean to pretend you didn't steal the bandbox from me, just now, in that taxicab, trying to get the necklace?" she demanded. He waited an instant, then shrugged. "I presume denial would be useless." "Quite." "All right then: I won't deny anything."