Ten thousand in
sapphires you couldn't match in a hundred years, and Molly coming in
banged up like a prize-fighter! . . . Someone at the door."
It proved to be Crawford.
"Glad you got back safely," he said relievedly.
"Had her necklace stolen," replied Killigrew briefly.
"You don't mean to say. . . ."
Kitty recounted her amazing adventure.
"And my wife's ruby is gone." Crawford made the disclosure simply. He
was a quiet man; he had learned the futility of gestures, of wasting
words in lamentation.
"Good gracious!" exclaimed Kitty.
"The windows of the cab were down. I stood outside, smoking to pass
the time. Suddenly I heard Mrs. Crawford cry out. A hand had reached
in from the off side, clutched the pendant, twisted it off, and was
gone. All quicker than I can tell it. I tried to give chase, but it
was utter folly. I couldn't see anything two feet away. Mrs. Crawford
is a bit knocked up over it. Rather sinister stone, if its history is
a true one: the Nana Sahib's ruby, you know. For the jewel itself I
don't care.
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