"Guess you'd better ask her," said Fenton, rising to his feet; "she won't let me meddle with the affair, so I can't do anything--if she's fool enough to lose or sell five thousand pounds' worth of diamonds, I can't help it: and now, sir, the five minutes--" glancing at his watch. "Are up long ago," replied Naball, rising to his feet. "Well, I'm curious about this case, and I'm going to get at it somehow, so at present I'm off down to see Caprice about this," and he tapped his breast-pocket, where the jewel was placed. "You won't get anything out of her," said Fenton yawning, "if all you surmise is true." "I don't care what she says," observed Naball, going to the door. "I can discover all I want from the expression of her face when she knows what I've got, and where I got it." With this Naball disappeared, and Fenton, returning to his desk, flung himself back in his chair. "Why the devil won't she prosecute?" he muttered savagely to himself. "Guess she knows more about this robbery than she says, but even then--confound it, I'm mixed." Having come to this unsatisfactory conclusion, Mr. Fenton went on with his work, and dismissed all thoughts of the diamond robbery from his mind. Meanwhile, Naball was on his way down to Toorak, meditating over the revelation made to him by Fenton about Caprice's sudden fit of generosity. "I didn't think she was so tender-hearted," murmured Naball, full of perplexity; "she must have had some strong reason for selling her diamonds. I wonder who the man is?--and the wife called. Humph! this is quite a new game for Caprice." When he left the station, and walked to the house, instead of ringing the front-door bell, he strolled round the corner to the verandah, on which the drawing-room windows looked out. He did this because--wondering if Villiers was concerned in the robbery--he wanted to see the window by which he entered the dining-room on the night of the robbery. Soft-footed and stealthy in his motions, the detective made no noise, and was just pausing on the edge of the verandah, wondering whether he would go forward or return to the front door, when he heard Kitty's voice in the drawing-room raised in a tone of surprise. "Mrs. Malton!" "Hullo!" said Naball to himself, "that's the name of Fenton's assistant manager. Now, I wonder what his wife is calling here about? I'll wait and hear." So the detective, filled with curiosity, took up his position close to one of the windows, so that he could hear every word that was said, but, of course, was unable to see anything going on inside. He commenced to listen, out of mere curiosity, but soon the conversation took a turn which interested him greatly, and, to his mind, threw a great deal of light on the diamond robbery. "Why have you called to see me again?" asked Kitty, in a cold tone.