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I. The Adventure of “The Western Star”

           Ashereadithestiffenedvisibly.

           Withanejaculation,hehandedittohiswife.Thenheglancedatmyfriend.

           “Justaminute,MonsieurPoirot.Ifeelyououghttoknowaboutthis.It’sfromHoffberg.Hethinkshe’sfoundacustomerforthediamond—anAmerican,sailingfortheStatesto-morrow.They’resendingdownachapto-nighttovetthestone.ByJove,though,ifthisgoesthrough——”Wordsfailedhim.

           LadyYardlyhadturnedaway.Shestillheldthetelegraminherhand.

           “Iwishyouwouldn’tsellit,George,”shesaid,inalowvoice.“It’sbeeninthefamilysolong.”Shewaited,asthoughforareply,butwhennonecameherfacehardened.Sheshruggedhershoulders.“Imustgoanddress.IsupposeIhadbetterdisplay‘thegoods.’”SheturnedtoPoirotwithaslightgrimace.“It’soneofthemosthideousnecklacesthatwaseverdesigned!Georgehasalwayspromisedtohavethestonesresetforme,butit’sneverbeendone.”Shelefttheroom.

           Halfanhourlater,wethreewereassembledinthegreatdrawing-roomawaitingthelady.Itwasalreadyafewminutespastthedinnerhour.

           Suddenlytherewasalowrustle,andLadyYardlyappearedframedinthedoorway,aradiantfigureinalongwhiteshimmeringdress.Roundthecolumnofherneckwasarivuletoffire.Shestoodtherewithonehandjusttouchingthenecklace.

           “Beholdthesacrifice,”shesaidgaily.Herill-humourseemedtohavevanished.“WaitwhileIturnthebiglightonandyoushallfeastyoureyesontheugliestnecklaceinEngland.”

           Theswitcheswerejustoutsidethedoor.

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