modern civ'lization can be seen in our woodwork. Look at that fine old door, for instance, with its bevelled panels and ornamented bolection, and its Ionic pilasters and carved lintel. And then compare it with the flat, flimsy, machine-made, shellacked boards which are turned out by the thousand to-day. Sic transit. . . ."
He studied the door for some time; then turned abruptly back to Mrs. Platz, who was eyeing him curiously and with mounting apprehension.
"What did Mr. Benson do with the box of jewels when he went out to dinner?" he asked.
"Nothing, sir," she answered nervously. "He left them on the table there."
"Did you see them after he had gone?"
"Yes; and I was going to put them away. But I decided I'd better not touch them."
"And nobody came to the door, or entered the house, after Mr. Benson left?"
"No, sir."
"You're quite sure?"
"I'm positive, sir."
Vance rose, and began to pace the floor. Suddenly, just as he was passing the woman, he stopped and faced her.
"Was your maiden name Hoffman, Mrs. Platz?"
The thing she had been dreading had come. Her face paled, her eyes opened wide, and her lower lip drooped a little.
Vance stood looking at her, not unkindly. Before she could regain control of herself, he said:
"I had the pleasure of meeting your charmin' daughter recently."
