She sat silent for a few moments, apparently turning over something in
her mind. When she spoke again her manner showed a certain
embarrassment. "Do--do you know," she asked rather hesitatingly, "how
they got the information?"

"No," he replied. "And that is what is puzzling all of us, but they have
so far refused to tell us."

Almost she uttered a prayer of thankfulness. She very strongly suspected
that the only way Hanson could have secured the information was through
her mother's inveterate habit of eavesdropping, a weakness of hers which
she had failed to hide from her daughter, and a feeling almost of
gratitude came over Pearl that so far Hanson had been decent enough to
spare that poor babbler.

She took a last sip of coffee and rose from the table. "I must go down
to the other cabin," she said, reluctance in her heart, if not in her
voice.

"I will go with you"--Seagreave rose with alacrity to accompany
her--"and get the fires builded. It should really have been done long
ago. But what am I thinking of? Wait a moment." He clapped his hand to
his pocket. "One never knows what avenues of cleverness and cunning a
great temptation may open up." He laughed a little. "On that wild drive
to the Mont d'Or I insisted on José removing your necklace and all your
rings with which he had decked himself. I dare say it cost him
immeasurable pangs, but he had no time to express them. As I was driving
he passed them over to Hugh, and when we reached here Hugh gave them to
me. He explained that in attempting to give them to you he might be