“Take off your coat,” Rollison said to the man.

After a short, tense pause, the man did so.

“Throw it on the bed,” ordered Rollison.

Again the man obeyed, and the coat fell on the bed, near Barbara.

“Pick it up, Mrs. Allen, and empty the pockets,” said Rollison, “We’ll see what we can learn about the gentleman.”

He looked into the scared brown eyes of his victim, who moistened his lips again and stood up more comfortably. Barbara began to go through the pockets, but kept looking at the burglar and at Rollison. Oddments piled up on the bed by her side, and Rollison did not speak until every pocket was empty.

A wallet, some letters, a gold watch, a slim gold cigarette-case and a lighter, a piece of billiard-chalk, a green comb, a small ring of keys, a book of stamps and some other oddments came to light.

“Now I wonder where you won the gold watch,” said Rollison, with a touch of mockery. “The last crib you cracked, I suppose. What’s all this about diamonds?”

The man didn’t speak.

“I shouldn’t hold out on me, chum,” Rollison said mildly. “The telephone is in the hall, and the police will be here in five minutes if I dial 999. What’s all this about diamonds?”

“Why the hell don’t you ask her?” growled the intruder.

“Because I prefer you to tell me,” said Rollison. Mrs. Allen, pick up that hair-brush and give it to me, will you?” He glanced at the silver hair-brush on the floor and Barbara got off the bed. She looked a comical figure with a blanket clutched round her, one corner trailing on the floor. Instinctively, she looked at herself in the mirror, and felt her hair again.

She picked up the brush.

“Throw it,” said Rollison, and she did so. He caught it deftly by the handle and beat the air with it. “This is almost as good as a cosh,” he mused aloud. “You know what a cosh is, don’t you chum? A shiny sheath of leather filled with lots of lead shot. On the whole I think this will hurt more. Now what were you saying about those diamonds?”