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Updated: May 9, 2025
Isabel drenched her own handkerchief in Mrs. Bendish's eau-de cologne and gave it him, dripping wet. "Take this, it will do you good." "Thank you" said Lawrence, exhausted and subdued. Becoming gradually rather more composed, he raised his eyes again. "What must you think of me? It is beyond apology. Will you ever forgive me?" "There's nothing to forgive: I'm not hurt."
Lawrence asked, tendering his case. It was of gold, and bore his monogram in diamonds. Isabel eyed it scornfully. Jack Bendish's was only silver and much scratched and dinted into the bargain. Now Jack Bendish was the grandson of a duke. "'No thank you," said Miss Stafford. "I detest smoking."
"Right!" said the official, and he nodded farewell and dipped his nose once more into his papers. Hillyard walked to the door, conscious that he looked the fool he felt himself to be. But at the door he turned in a sort of exasperation. "Can't you tell me at all why Bendish's friend wants my help?" he asked. It was at this moment that the indifferent gentleman had the inspiration of his life.
He held up the gold cigarette case which had dropped from Hyde's coat when he was lying on the grass. "Some of Mrs. Bendish's property by the look of it," remarked Val. "Diamonds, begad! I should have thought Yvonne had better taste. But it must be hers, though the cipher doesn't seem to have a B in it. I'll guarantee it isn't Rosy's." He slipped it into his pocket.
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