Marjorie, having received no inkling as to why her presence was desired in the library, gazed from one to the other in bewilderment and growing dread. Mrs. Calhoun-Cooper flushed and her eyes flashed angrily. “I shall have no hesitancy in repeating my charges”--Marjorie’s start was not lost on the others. “Miss Langdon, I demand that you instantly return my pearl necklace which you stole from me last night at the ball.” “You’re mad!” burst out Marjorie. “I haven’t your necklace.” “Lies won’t do, my girl!” Mrs. Calhoun-Cooper’s native coarseness was gaining the upper hand under the pressure of excitement and rage which almost mastered her. “I felt you fumbling with the clasp of the necklace.” “Indeed? And why didn’t you speak of it at the time?” “Because my attention was distracted, and when I turned back to speak to you, you had vanished.” “With the necklace,” added Pauline. “Not so fast!” Marjorie’s indignation almost choked her utterance, and she stopped to regain control of her voice. “The robbery took place while I was still at the supper-table, ten stories beneath the ballroom.” “The necklace disappeared earlier in the evening,” explained Mrs. Calhoun-Cooper, “for I missed it on my return to the ballroom immediately after supper.” “You have only your word to support such a statement,” retorted Marjorie swiftly. “I deny your charge absolutely. Oh, Mr. Fordyce,” turning appealingly to him, “do have faith in my word.” “Of course I will,” his hearty assurance brought tears of relief to Marjorie’s eyes. “Miss Marjorie, during the evening, did you see anyone enter Mrs. Calhoun-Cooper’s box who might be the real thief?” Marjorie’s eyes never wavered before her questioner’s gaze. “I am afraid I can give you no information or clue which will help in tracing the robber,” she said slowly. “Too bad,” Fordyce shook his head. “I think, Mrs. Calhoun-Cooper, you had better wait and see what the detectives can do to trace your necklace.” “Do you mean to say, Mr. Fordyce, that you do not believe me when I state that Miss Langdon stole my necklace?” “I do, madame; unless you can get someone to substantiate your statement.” “Ask her, she knows,” burst out Pauline, pointing to a shadowy figure standing near the half-open door. With one accord they turned in that direction, and faced by the four pairs of eyes, Janet came reluctantly forward. Marjorie turned sick as her thoughts raced to the delicate, kindly mother upstairs and the upright, idolizing father--how would they bear the disclosure of Janet’s kleptomania? The moment she dreaded had come at last. “Well, Janet,” her father’s curt voice cut the silence. “What do you know of the disappearance of Mrs. Calhoun-Cooper’s pearl necklace?” Janet’s eyes rested for a moment on Marjorie, then traveled back to her father. “I saw Marjorie steal the necklace,” she said quietly. Marjorie’s low cry of horror was drowned in Mrs. Calhoun-Cooper’s triumphant shout.