Then, at last, they did find
the case, just as I'd begun to hope it was safe. I begged the Commissary
of Police not to open it. In vain. When he did, what was my relief to
see the diamond necklace you must have heard of!--my relief and my
surprise. And now I'm going to confide in you the secret of another,
speaking to you as my friend, and a man of honour.
"Those jewels had been stolen only a few days ago from Monsieur du
Laurier, and he was in despair at their loss, for they belonged to a
dear friend of his--an inveterate gambler, but an adorable woman. She
dared not tell her husband of money that she'd lost, but begged Raoul to
sell the diamonds for her in Amsterdam and have them replaced by paste.
On his way there the necklace was stolen by an expert thief, who must
somehow have learned what was going on through the pawnbroker with whom
the jewels had been in pledge--for a few thousand francs only. You can
imagine my astonishment at seeing the necklace returned in such a
miraculous way. I thought that Ivor Dundas must have got it back,
meaning to give it to me as a surprise--and the letters afterwards. And
it was only to keep the letters out of the affair altogether at any
price--evidences in black and white of my silly flirtation--and also to
avoid any association of Raoul's name with the necklace, that I told the
Commissary of Police the leather case had in it a present from my lover.
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