"Don't distress yourself, Mr. Betteredge," says the Sergeant, with more
kindness than I had any right to expect from him. "In my line of life
if we were quick at taking offence, we shouldn't be worth salt to our
porridge. If it's any comfort to you, collar me again. You don't in
the least know how to do it; but I'll overlook your awkwardness in
consideration of your feelings."
He curled up at the corners of his lips, and, in his own dreary way,
seemed to think he had delivered himself of a very good joke.
I led him into my own little sitting-room, and closed the door.
"Tell me the truth, Sergeant," I said. "What do you suspect? It's no
kindness to hide it from me now."
"I don't suspect," said Sergeant Cuff. "I know."
My unlucky temper began to get the better of me again.
"Do you mean to tell me, in plain English," I said, "that Miss Rachel
has stolen her own Diamond?"
"Yes," says the Sergeant; "that is what I mean to tell you, in so many
words. Miss Verinder has been in secret possession of the Moonstone from
first to last; and she has taken Rosanna Spearman into her confidence,
because she has calculated on our suspecting Rosanna Spearman of the
theft.
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