"Now then, M. de Comte," said I, "my opinion is that Chu-Chu is lying to us both. Turn out his pockets."
Chu-Chu's body shuddered. I took a step closer.
"Remember, you brute," said I, "I'd rather kill you than not. The only reason that I don't is because I believe Ivan to be playing fair and I owe him something for those pearls. But as for you, M. de Tondeur, there's a score to settle for those shoes and the handkerchief and the cigarette. Stand fast, or by G I'll rip your heart out." I looked at Ivan. "Turn out his pockets," I said.
Ivan obeyed. First came a wallet, then some change. Ivan laid both on the corner of the desk. Then gloves, a handkerchief, a gold pencil and pen-knife to match, and a few ordinary objects of the sort that a man carries. I began to think that the pearls were in Ivan's desk. Then, as Ivan turned inside out a hip pocket there dropped on the rug a little package of tissue-paper. It landed solidly. A snarl was wrenched from Chu-Chu.
"Silence!" I whispered, glad that we spoke in English, for it was possible that a servant was listening outside. "Pick that package up and open it," I said to Ivan.
He did so, then his jaw dropped and his eyes opened wide. There was no doubt of his amazement.
"Give it here," I said, and stepped forward, holding out my hand, the gun muzzle almost against his body. His eyes met mine with a curious expression as he dropped into my outstretched hand three great gems.
