“‘The Peacock’s Eye’ is the description given to a magnificent blue-shaded emerald of somewhat peculiar shape. It is valued, I believe, at something like twenty thousand pounds. Anybody who has not been privileged to see it can have no adequate idea of its immense size or unique beauty. Miss Delaney asked for the gem, signed for its receipt and took the stone away with her.” He passed a slip of paper over to the Inspector. “There’s her signature for it,” he explained. Bannister pursed his lips in deep thought. Anthony bent over his shoulder. Stark took advantage of their silence to continue his story. “I pointed out to her the foolishness of the procedure as far as I could—consistently that is with my duty and position as her Bank Manager. I foreshadowed the risk she was running—tried to get her to visualise certain dangers to which she was exposing herself and also the stone. To no avail, gentlemen! The lady was adamant.” “What did you do then?” inquired Bannister peremptorily. “I went to our strong-room, opened Miss Delaney’s private safe in which the jewel was kept, took the case containing the ‘Peacock’s Eye’ back to my own room and handed it to her. Whereupon Miss Delaney signed the receipt-note that you’ve just examined.” He sat back in his chair with a certain amount of self-satisfaction. “Did anybody else in the service of your Bank know of this transaction?” “Nobody at all,” replied Stark firmly. “I confided the matter to no one, neither then nor since, and nobody could possibly have known what I was doing.” “One moment, Mr. Stark,” Anthony broke in sharply, “had Miss Delaney ever made this request before?” “Never—during my tenure of the Managership. I couldn’t say regarding the period before that—naturally.” “If so—if she _had_ done it previously—I take it there would be documentary substantiation of the occurrence?” “I should say so—yes.” “And you haven’t come across any?” Stark shook his head with decision, “None.” “Did the lady seem at all upset, nervous, or frightened, or was she quite normal?” “Well,” answered Stark, “I’ve seen her several times before and I don’t think she’s the kind of girl to show such conditions as nervousness or fright. She has always impressed me as very self-reliant and capable. I should say she was a girl that could face the music—could stand fire as you might say. But I’ll also say this. On the morning in question she certainly seemed to me to be labouring under a sort of—” he hesitated momentarily and sought mentally for what he considered the correct description, “let me say ‘nervous excitement’—perhaps the term ‘nervous eagerness,’ would fit the situation even better.” “A certain amount of agitation—eh?” suggested Bannister. Stark shook his head. “Hardly that—as I said just now the best term to use would be ‘nervous eagerness.’”