"All very exciting," he said. "And now you'll just hand me those pearls, and I'll seize the opportunity while the coast is clear to put them back where they belong." Only for a moment did Spike hesitate. Then he pulled out the jewels, and placed them in Jimmy's hand. Mr. Chames was Mr. Chames, and what he said went. But his demeanor was tragic, telling eloquently of hopes blighted. Jimmy took the necklace with a thrill. He was an expert in jewels, and a fine gem affected him much as a fine picture affects the artistic. He went to the light, and inspected them gloatingly. As he did so, he uttered a surprised exclamation. He ran the jewels through his fingers. He scrutinized them again, more closely this time. Then he turned to Spike, with a curious smile. "You'd better be going downstairs," he said. "I'll just run along and replace them. Where is the box?" "It's on de floor against de wall, near de window, Mr. Chames." "Good. Better give me that lamp." There was no one in the passage. He raced softly along it to Sir Thomas Blunt's dressing room. He lit his lamp, and found the box without difficulty. Dropping the necklace in, he closed down the lid. "They'll want a new lock, I'm afraid," he said. "However!" He rose to his feet. "Jimmy!" said a startled voice. He whipped round. The light of the lamp fell on Molly, standing, pale and open-eyed, beside the curtain by the door. CHAPTER XVII. Pressed, rigid, against the wall behind her curtain, Molly had listened in utter bewilderment to the sounds of strife in the passage outside. The half-heard conversation between the detectives had done nothing toward a solution of the mystery. Galer's voice she thought she recognized as one that she had heard before; but she could not identify it. When the detectives had passed away together down the corridor, she had imagined that the adventure was at an end and that she was at liberty to emerge--cautiously--from her hiding place and follow them downstairs. She had stretched out a hand, to draw the curtain aside, when she caught sight of the yellow ray of the lamp on the floor, and shrank back again. As she did so, she heard the sound of breathing. Somebody was still in the room. Her mystification deepened. She had supposed that the tale of visitors to the dressing room was complete with the two who had striven in the passage. Yet here was another. She strained her ears to catch a sound. For a while she heard nothing. Then came a voice that she knew well; and, abandoning concealment, she came out into the room, and found Jimmy kneeling on the floor beside the rifled jewel box. For a full minute they stood staring at each other, without a word. The light of the lamp hurt Molly's eyes. She put up a hand, to shade them. The silence was oppressive. It seemed to Molly that they had been standing like this for years.