Mr. Oliver got up and put his snuff-box on the table, and his hands
in his trouser pockets. 'You can send for the police, William,' he
said to master, 'because as a matter of fact, I saw the
black-whiskered gentleman with the necklace in his hand. I did get
home late to-night, but not so late as you thought, and I came in
through the open door and was up in my dressing-room when that
scoundrel sneaked into my wife's room and took the necklace to ruin
an innocent girl with. What a thorough scoundrel you are, though,
aren't you?' he said to John.

Then John, he shrugged his shoulders as much as to say, 'It's all up
now,' and he said to Mr. Oliver very politely, 'You are always fond
of poking your nose into other people's business, sir, and I daresay
you'd like to know why I did it. Oh yes. You know everything, you
do,' says John, growing very white, and speaking angry and quick,
'with your writing, and your snuff, and your gossiping with the
servants, which no gentleman would do, and your nasty, sneaking,
Jaeger-felt boots, and your silly old tub of a wife. I knew that
smooth-spoken man of yours would believe anything against her, and I
knew he would never marry her after a set-out like this, and I knew
I should get her when she found I stuck to her through it all, as I
should have done, and as I would have done too, if she had taken
fifty diamond necklaces.'

'Send for the police,' said master, but nobody moved. For Mrs.
Oliver, who had been crying like a waterworks ever since we came
down into the library, said quite sudden, 'O Dick dear! let him go.
Don't prosecute him. See, he's lost everything, and he's lost her,
and he must have been mad with love for her or he wouldn't have done