THE BRASS BOWL
meet again, for, having accomplished her errand, she had flown from the possibility of his thanks.
It was so clear, now! He perceived it all, plainly. Somehow (though it was hard to surmise how) she had found out that Anisty had stolen the jewels; somehow (and one wondered at what risk) she had contrived to take them from him and bring them back to their owner. And Anisty had followed.
Poor little woman! What had she not suffered, what perils had she not braved, to prove that there was honor even in thieves! It could have been at no inconsiderable danger,—a danger not incommensurate with that of robbing a tigress of her whelps,—that she had managed to filch his loot from that pertinacious and vindictive soul, Anisty!
But she had accomplished it; and all for him!
If only he could find her, now!
There was a clue to his hand in that bag, of course, but by this act she had for ever removed from him the right to investigate that.
If he could only find that cabby.
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