Guerchard hesitated. He pulled out his handkerchief, and mopped his forehead: "Well . . . the coronet . . . is it in this case?" he said in a shaky voice, and set the case on the table.
"Of course it is," said the Duke impatiently.
Guerchard opened the case, and the coronet sparkled and gleamed brightly in the electric light: "Yes, it is there; you see it?" said Guerchard.
"Yes, I see it; well?" said the Duke, looking at him in some bewilderment, so unlike himself did he seem.
"We're going to wait," said Guerchard.
"What for?" said the Duke.
"Lupin," said Guerchard.
"Lupin? And you actually do believe that, just as in a fairy tale, when that clock strikes twelve, Lupin will enter and take the coronet?"
"Yes, I do; I do," said Guerchard with stubborn conviction. And he snapped the case to.
"This is most exciting," said the Duke.
"You're sure it doesn't bore you?" said Guerchard huskily.
"Not a bit of it," said the Duke, with cheerful derision. "To make the acquaintance of this scoundrel who has fooled you for ten years is
