bought the stone three years ago.”
"I see, madame, that you believe the diamond referred to to be—”
“ The Western Star,’ ” finished Miss Marvell. “That’s so. At the same time, Gregory remembers that there was some story attached to the stone, but the Chinaman wasn’t handing out any information. Gregory says he seemed just scared to death, and in a mortal hurry to get rid of the thing. He only asked about a tenth of its value. It was Greg's wedding present to me."
Poirot nodded thoughtfully.
The story seems of an almost unbelievable romanticism. And yet— who knows? I pray of you,Hastings, hand me my little almanac.”
I complied.
“Voyonsf” said Poirot, turning the leaves. “VVhen is the date of the full moon? Ah”riday next. That is in three days’ time. £7i 厶few, madame, you seek my advice—I gave it to you. This belle histoire may be a hoax—but it may not! Therefore I counsel you to place the diamond in my keeping until after Friday next. Then we can take what steps we please.”
A slight cloud passed over the actress s face, and she replied constrainedly：
“I’m afraid that’s impossible.”
“You have it with you —heiti?iP Poirot was watching her narrowly.
The girl hesitated a moment, then slipped her hand into the bosom of her gown, drawing out a long thin chain. She leaned forward, unclosing her hand. In the palm, a stone of fire, exquisitely set in platinum, lay and winked at us solemnly.
Poirot drew in his breath with a long hiss.
“Epatantr he murmured. “You permit, madame?” Me took the jewel in his own hand and scrutinized it keenly, then restored it to her with a little bow. “A magnificent stone一without a flaw. Ah, cent tontierres! and you carry it about with you, comme
“No, no. I’m very careful really,Monsieur Poirot. As a rule it’s locked up in my jewel case, and left in the hotel safe deposit. We're staying at the Magnificent, you know. I just brought it along today for you to see”
“And you will leave it with me, n9est-ce pas? You will be advised by Papa Poirot?”
“Well, you see, it’s this way, Monsieur Poirot. On Friday we’re going down to Yardly Chase to spend a few days with Lord and Lady Yardly”
Her words awoke a vague echo of remembrance in my mind. Some gossip—what was it now? A few years ago Lord and Lady Yardly had paid a visit to the States, rumor had it that his lordship had rather gone the pace out there with the assistance of some lady friends— but surely there was something more, some gossip which coupled Lady Yardly’s name with that of a “movie” star in California—why! it came to me in a flash! of course it was none other than Gregory B. Rolf.
“I’ll let you into a little secret, Monsieur Poirot,” Miss Marvell was continuing. “We’ve got a deal on with Lord Yardly. There’s some chance of our arranging to film a play down there in his ancestral pile.”
“At Yardly Chase?” I cried,interested. “Why, it’s one of the show- places of England.”
Miss Marvell nodded.
“I guess it's the real old feudal stuff all right. But he wants a pretty stiff price, and of course I don’t know yet whether the deal will go through, but Greg and I always like to combine business with pleasure."
“But—I demand pardon if I ain dense, madame—surely it is possible to visit Yardly Chase without taking the diamond with you?”
A shrewd, hard look came into Miss Marvell's eyes which belied their childlike appearance. She looked suddenly a good deal older.
“I want to wear it down there.”
“Surely,” I said suddenly, “there are some very famous jewels inthe Yardly collection, a large diamond amongst them?”
“That’s so,” said Miss Marvell briefly.
I heard Poirot murmur beneath his breath, "Ah, c'est comme Then he said aloud, with his usual uncanny luck in hiting the bulls- eye (he dignifies it by the name of psychology)： 'Then you are without doubt already acquainted with Lady Yardly, or perhaps your husband
is?”
“Gregory knew her when she was out West three years ago,” said Miss Marvell. She hesitated a moment, and then added abruptly： “Do either of you ever see Society Gossip?"
We both pleaded guilty rather shamefacedly.
“I asked because in this week's number there is an article on famous jewels, and it's really very curious—’” She broke off.
I rose, went to the table at the other side of the room and returned with the paper in question in my hand. She took it from me, found the article, and began to read aloud：
“Among other famous stones may be included the Star of the East, a diamond in the possession of the Yardly family. An ancestor of the present Lord Yardly brought it back with him from China, and a romantic story is said to attach to it. According to this, the stone was once the right eye of a temple god. Another diamond, exactly similar in form and size, formed the left eye, and the story goes that this jewel, too, would in course of time be stolen. One eye shall go West, the other East, till they shall meet once more. Then, in triumph shall they return to the god, It is a curious coincidence that there is at the present time a stone corresponding closely in description with this one, and known as “he Star of the West” or “he Western Star” It is the property of the celebrated film actress, Miss Mary Marvell.
A comparison of the two stones would be interesting”
From his crisply curling black head, to the tips of his patent-leather boots, he was a hero fit for romance.
“I said I’d call round for you, Mary,” said Gregory Rolf “and here I am. Well, what does Monsieur Poirot say to our little problem? Just one big hoax, same as I do?”
Poirot smiled up at the big actor. They made a ridiculous contrast.
“Hoax or no hoax,Mr. Rolf,” he said dryly, “I have advised madame your wife not to take the jewel with her to Yardly Chase on Friday.”
“I,m with you there, sir. I’ve already said so to Mary. But there! She’s a woman through and through,and I guess she can’t bear to think of another woman outshining her in the jewel line”
“What nonsense, Gregory!” said Mary Marvell sharply. But she flushed angrily.
Poirot shrugged his shoulders.
“Madame, I have advised. I can do no more."
He bowed them both to the door.
‘Ah! la la” he observed, returning. ‘Histoire des femmes! The good husband, he hit the nail on the head一tout de memey, he was not tactful! Assuredly not”
I imparted to him my vague remembrances, and he nodded vigorously.
"So I thought. All the same,
