I scarcely went through the formality of knocking at
the door. Mr. Parker and Eve were both standing at the table, their heads
close together. At the sound of my footsteps and precipitate entrance Mr.
Parker swung round. One hand was still behind him. Upon the table a white
silk handkerchief was lying.
"My dear fellow!" he exclaimed. "My dear Walmsley! What has happened?"
I opened my lips and closed them again. It really seemed impossible to say
anything! Mr. Parker's expression had never been so boyish, so earnest,
and yet so wistful. Eve was quivering with some emotion the nature of
which I could not at once divine. I felt very certain, however, that she
had been remonstrating with her father.
"Don't keep us in suspense, my dear fellow!" Mr. Parker implored. "What
has gone wrong? Eve and I were just--just talking over your delightful
party."
"And looking over the spoils!" I said grimly.
I went a little farther into the room, Mr. Parker, with a sigh, abandoned
his position. He unclosed the fingers of his hand and removed the silk
handkerchief. I saw upon the table my aunt's brooch, my sister's pendant
and Sir Blaydon Harrison's diamond pig. I said not a word. I looked at
them and I looked at Mr.
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