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 morning, or she couldn't have sent off those telegrams."

"What do you think it can be, then?" asked Mrs. Patello. "Mattie's a sensible girl, Mr. Wedgwood, and she wouldn't send for us like that unless there was a reason."

But Wedgwood refrained from expressing an opinion, though he was not without one. He suggested that they should get their tickets and find a comfortable place in the train; after all, he pointed out, Mr. and Mrs. Patello were doing all they could in responding so promptly to their daughter's summons. He himself, having found his companions quiet quarters went into a smoking-compartment close by, to think. And one result of his cogitations was that when the journey was half accomplished he went back to Mr. and Mrs. Patello. Mr. Patello was asleep in one corner; Mrs. Patello sat, still anxious and thoughtful, in another: Wedgwood sat down by her.

"I want to ask you a question, Mrs. Patello," he said. "Just a little matter that's crossed my mind. Does your sister possess a valuable diamond ring?"

Mrs. Patello started, staring at her questioner.

"Well, now, however could you know that?"