His hand went to the inner pocket of his coat, into which I had seen him
put the brocade bag. But it did not come out again. It groped; and his
face flushed. "Good heavens, Maxine," he said, "I hope you weren't in
earnest when you told me that bag held something very valuable to us
both, for I've lost it. You know, I've been almost mad. I had my
handkerchief in that pocket. I must have pulled it out, and--"
My knees seemed to give way under me. I half fell onto a sofa.
"Raoul," I said, in a queer stifled voice, "the bag had in it the
Duchess de Montpellier's diamonds."
IVOR DUNDAS' PART
CHAPTER XII
IVOR GOES INTO THE DARK
Never had I been caught in a situation which I liked less than finding
myself, long after midnight, locked by Maxine de Renzie into her
boudoir, while within hearing she did her best to convince her lover
that no stranger had come on her account to the house.
I had never before visited her in Paris, though she had described her
little place there to me when we knew each other in London; and in
groping about trying to find another door or a window in the dark room,
I ran constant risks of making my presence known by stumbling against
the furniture or knocking down some ornament.
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