"Stolen," she replied quietly, meeting his inquisitorial glance. "Have you searched very carefully?" said Majendie. "Mistakes are easily made. It may have slipped to the floor. Are you certain that it has been taken?" "Exactly. There is not the slightest doubt," said Mrs. Kildair, conscious of the almost admiring suspicion in Slade’s glance. "Three of you were in my bedroom when I took off my rings, placed a hatpin through them, and fastened them to the pin-cushion. Am I correct, Mr. Garraboy?" she added abruptly. "Perfectly so," said the broker, staring ahead with a sudden consciousness of his dilemma. He added punctiliously; "I was there." "With the exception of Mr. Slade, each of you has passed through my bedroom a dozen times. The ring is gone, and one of you has taken it." Mrs. Cheever gave a little scream and reached heavily for a glass of water. Mrs. Bloodgood said something inarticulate, covering her heart with her hand in the muffled outburst of masculine exclamation: "The devil you say!" "Incredible!" "I saw it." "By Jove! A nasty mess." Only Maud Lille’s calm voice could be heard saying: "Quite true. I was in the room when you took them off. The ruby was on top." Mrs. Cheever sought to add her testimony, but was incapable of speech. In her agitation she spilled half of the glass of water as she put it down from her lips. "Was the ring valuable?" said Slade carefully, with a quiet enjoyment. Their eyes met a moment—a look incomprehensible to the others. "It was worth over fifteen thousand dollars," Mrs. Kildair answered, in the buzz of astonishment. "And what are you going to do about it?" "I have not minced words," she said, turning her eyes to Maud Lille and back to Garraboy. "There is a thief, and that thief is here in this room. Now, I am not going to stand on ceremony. I am going to have that ring back in one way or another—now. Listen to me carefully. I intend to have that ring back, and, until I do, not a soul shall leave this room." "A search?" said Slade quietly. "No," she said instantly, tapping on the table with her nervous knuckles. "I don’t care to know the thief—all I want is the ring. And this is the way I am going to get it." She stopped for another quick, searching glance, and continued with cold control: "I am going to make it possible for whoever took it to restore it to me without possibility of detection. The doors are locked and will stay locked. I am going to put out the lights, and I am going to count one hundred—slowly. You will be in absolute darkness; no one will know or see what is done, and I give my word that I will count the full hundred. There will be no surprise, no turning up of lights. But if, at the end of that time, the ring is not placed here on this table, I shall telephone for detectives and have every one in this room searched. Am I clear?"