"You needn't distress yourself," David said, kindly.
"I beg your pardon," Bell said, tartly. "He is to do that very same
thing. Mental exercise never hurts anybody. Van Sneck is going to worry
till he puzzles it out. Will you describe the ring to us?"
The Dutchman complied at considerable length. He dwelt on the beauty of
the workmanship and the exceeding fineness of the black pearls; he talked
with the freedom and expression of the expert. Bell permitted him to
ramble on about historic rings in general. But all the same he could see
that Van Sneck was far from easy in his mind. Now and then a sudden gleam
came into his eyes: memory played for the fragment of a second on a
certain elusive chord and was gone.
"Were you smoking the night you came here?" Bell asked, suddenly.
"Yes," Van Sneck replied, "a cigarette. Henson handed it over to me. I
don't deny that I was terribly frightened, I smoked the cigarette out
of bravado."
"You went into the conservatory yonder and admired the flowers,"
Bell observed.
Van Sneck looked up with astonishment and admiration.
"I did," he confessed. "But I don't see how you know that.
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