"I must speak to my husband," she said to Miss Blackburne. "The pearls are in that case. There are two hundred and fifty. About thirty came unstrung. You'll see for yourself how they ought to be graduated. I'll be with you again in a few minutes." She flew to the hall, hoping to intercept Johnson before he could reach Roger's room. But the man was not on his way there. It was the sound of the door-bell she had heard. Johnson was in the act of admitting a girl in a black chiffon cloak lined with blue. A large frilled hood pulled over the wearer's eyes hid the profile from Beverley. The girl turned; it was Clo. "I'll go with you to your room," Beverley said, controlling her voice for the benefit of Johnson, and trying not to show how frantic was her haste. It was only when she had noiselessly closed the door of the big, bare room, that she dared let herself go. "What's happened?" she implored. "Why are you dressed like this? Of course you haven't got the papers?" "I dressed like this to make a get-away," said Clo. "I stole the cloak. I'll tell you everything by and by. But first, you must find out for yourself whether I've got the papers. I've got something--something in a thick envelope. That's all I know." She threw off the cloak of the girl at the Dietz, and unpinned the pocket which held the precious package--the pocket which, thanks to the pin, had guarded its contents through the whole series of her adventures. Beverley took the large linen envelope, not even thanking Clo. Neither noticed the omission. "Addressed to Justin O'Reilly!" she exclaimed. "It's the right size. But what makes you think it may have my envelope inside?" "Because it was carefully hidden in a safe in the wall. I thought of opening it to make sure. There wasn't--enough time." "I'll open it ... now!" said Beverley. Her words were firm, yet she hesitated, and turning, the envelope over, stared at the five official-looking red seals. What if it should contain legal documents belonging to some client of O'Reilly's? "Tap--tap!" came at the door. Beverley laid the envelope on the glass table, where Clo's medicine bottles once had stood. Over the red seals she flung her handkerchief, lest it should be Roger at the door. Meanwhile, Clo had answered the knock and revealed Johnson. "Madam, the lady who came with Mr. Sands wishes to see you immediately; it's very urgent," he announced. "Say I'll be there in a few minutes," she replied. "I can't come just yet." Johnson departed. "Madam will come in a few minutes," he repeated to Miss Blackburne, who had been anxiously awaiting him at a half-open door. "I think," he added, "she is busy, miss." "In that case," suggested the pearl-stringer, "perhaps you'd better call Mr. Sands." "Very well, miss, I'll do so." Johnson turned away, and Miss Blackburne retreated to the boudoir. But it occurred to Clo that Roger might be summoned if Beverley delayed.