gaining her own room, she rang for Bridget Greggs, and when that
confidential servant appeared, she said, "In the side pocket of Mr.
Losely's coat there is a POCKET-BOOK; in it there are some letters which
I must see. I shall appear to go out; leave the street-door ajar, that I
may slip in again unobserved. You will serve dinner as soon as possible.
And when Mr. Losely, as usual, exchanges his coat for the dressing-gown,
contrive to take out that pocket-book unobserved by him. Bring it to me
here, in this room: you can as easily replace it afterwards. A moment
will suffice to my purpose."

Bridget nodded, and understood. Jasper, standing by the window, saw Mrs.
Crane leave the house, walking briskly. He then threw himself on the
sofa, and began to doze: the doze deepened, and became sleep. Bridget,
entering to lay the cloth, so found him. She approached on tiptoe,
sniffed the perfume of the pocket-book, saw its gilded corners peep
forth from its lair. She hesitated; she trembled; she was in mortal fear
of that truculent slumberer; but sleep lessens the awe thieves feel or
heroes inspire. She has taken the pocketbook; she has fled with the
booty; she is in Mrs. Crane's apartment not five minutes after Mrs. Crane
has regained its threshold.

Rapidly the jealous woman ransacked the pocket-book; started to see,
elegantly worked with gold threads, in the lining, the words, "SOUVIENS
TOI DE TA GABRIELLE;" no other letters, save the two, of which Jasper had
vouchsafed to her but the glimpse. Over these she hurried her glittering
eyes; and when she restored them to their place, and gave back the book
to Bridget, who stood by breathless and listening, lest Jasper should
awake, her face was colourless, and a kind of shudder seemed to come over
her. Left alone, she rested her face on, her hand, her lips moving as if
in self-commune. Then noiselessly she glided down the stairs, regained