My daughter's little outbreak of temper in the "boudoir," and her
readiness to think herself suspected, appeared to have produced an
unfavourable impression on Superintendent Seegrave. It seemed also to
dwell a little on his mind, that she had been the last person who saw
the Diamond at night. When the second questioning was over, my girl
came back to me in a frenzy. There was no doubt of it any longer--the
police-officer had almost as good as told her she was the thief! I could
scarcely believe him (taking Mr. Franklin's view) to be quite such an
ass as that. But, though he said nothing, the eye with which he looked
at my daughter was not a very pleasant eye to see. I laughed it off
with poor Penelope, as something too ridiculous to be treated
seriously--which it certainly was. Secretly, I am afraid I was foolish
enough to be angry too. It was a little trying--it was, indeed. My
girl sat down in a corner, with her apron over her head, quite
broken-hearted. Foolish of her, you will say. She might have waited
till he openly accused her. Well, being a man of just an equal temper,
I admit that. Still Mr. Superintendent might have remembered--never mind
what he might have remembered.
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