Here are some similar ones--we'll see
if they're marked in the same fashion."
Five minutes later, Zillah had laid aside several rings marked in the way
Ayscough had indicated, and she turned from them to him with a look of
alarm.
"I can't understand it!" she exclaimed. "I know that these rings, and
those in that tray at the police-station, are part of old stock that my
grandfather had when he came here. He used to have a shop, years ago, in
the City--I'm not quite sure where, exactly--and this is part of the stock
he brought from it. But, how could Mr. Lauriston's rings bear those marks?
Because, from what I know of the trade, those are private marks--my
grandfather's private marks!"
"Well, just so--and you can imagine what our people are inclined to say
about it," said the detective. "They say now that the two rings which
Lauriston claims never were his nor his mother's, but that he stole them
out of your grandfather's tray. They're fixed on that, now."
"What will they do?" asked Zillah, anxiously. "Is he in danger?"
Ayscough gave her a knowing look.
"Between you and me," he said, lowering his voice to a whisper, "I came
around here privately--on my own hook, you know.
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