"Bring Mr. Van Hoeren this
way," he said.
There entered, hat in hand, bowing all round, a little fat, beady-eyed
man, whose beard was blue-black and glossy, whose lips were red, whose
nose was his most decided feature. His hat was new and shining, his black
overcoat of superfine cloth was ornamented with a collar of undoubted
sable; he carried a gold-mounted umbrella. But there was one thing on him
that put all the rest of his finery in the shade. In the folds of his
artistically-arranged black satin stock lay a pearl--such a pearl as few
folk ever have the privilege of seeing. It was as big as a moderately
sized hazel nut, and the three men who looked at it knew that it was
something wonderful.
"Take a chair, Mr. Van Hoeren," said Mr. Pawle genially. "You want to
tell me something about this Ashton case? Very much obliged to you, I'm
sure. These gentlemen are both interested--considerably--in that case,
and if you can give me any information that will throw any light on it--"
Mr. Van Hoeren deposited his plump figure in a convenient chair and
looked round the circle of faces.
"One thing there is I don't see in them newspapers, Mr.
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