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Updated: June 13, 2025
Farmingham how strangely the stupid French had made the blunder of doing precisely what she asked. Then he strapped up the portmanteau, pushed it under the bed, went out and locked the door. He asked the chief steward to put a man in the corridor to see that no one went into his room while he was out. Then he got the sapphires out of the safe and went over to the Ritz. He met Mrs.
Farmingham in the corridor coming out to her carriage. "Ah, Mr. Hargrave," she said, "here you are. I just told the clerk to call you up and tell you to bring the sapphires over in the morning when you came for the draft. I promised Lady Holbert last night to come out to tea at five. Forgot it until a moment ago." She took Hargrave along out to the carriage and he gave her the envelope.
It was not heavy yet; it was only a mist of saffron; but it threatened to gather volume as the day advanced. At luncheon Hargrave got a note from Mrs. Farmingham, a line scrawled on her card to say that she would call for him at three o'clock. Her carriage was before the door on the stroke of the hour, and she explained that the money to redeem the jewels had arrived.
A list of arrivals is always printed. He saw at a glance that it was not a man's card; the size was too large. Then he turned it over before the light of the fire. The name was engraved in script, an American fashion at this time. The woman's card had surprised him; but the name on it brought him up in his chair "Mrs. A. B. Farmingham."
Farmingham got out and Hargrave followed her along the hall to a door at the end of a corridor. He could see her now clearly in the light. She had gray eyes, a big determined mouth, and a mass of hair dyed as only a Parisian expert, in the Rue de la Paix, can do it.
Nobody undertook to verify the title of a Siamese trader or a Burma agent. Mrs. Farmingham walked about for several minutes, saying over to herself as she had said before: "Now what shall I do?" Then like the big, dominant, decisive nature that she was she came to a conclusion. "All right," she said, "bring in the money in the morning and get the sapphires. I'll take them up in a day or two.
After a good bit of official pother the porters carried out a big portmanteau, a sort of heavy leather traveling case, and put it into the carriage. Mrs. Farmingham came to Hargrave where he stood by the door. "Now, what do you think!" she said. "Of all the stupid idiots, give me a French idiot to be the stupidest; they have actually sent me eighteen thousand dollars in gold!"
I can possibly arrive if I leave London to-morrow at midday, but not later." Mrs. Farmingham began to wag her head in a determined fashion. "Nonsense," she said, "I can't get the money by noon. I have telegraphed to the Credit Lyonnais in Paris. I can get it by the day after to-morrow, or perhaps to-morrow evening." The foreigner looked down on the floor. "It is impossible," he said.
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