Then she saw Mrs.
Oliver come to the table, break the seals, open the parcel, take out a jewel case--a jewel case which the maid knew well--and carry it and the parcel out of sight.

Mrs.Oliver crossed to a corner of the room where her trunks lay; and the next moment the maid heard a key grate in a lock.
For a little while the candle still burned, and every now and then a distorted shadow was flung upon the wall of the tent within the maid's vision.

It seemed to her that Mrs.Oliver was sitting at a little writing table which stood close by the trunk.

Then the light went out again.

The maid would have thought no more of this incident, but on entering the room next morning with a cup of tea, she was surprised to see the packet once more sealed and fastened on the centre table.
"Adela," said Mrs.Oliver, "I want you to take that parcel to the Post Office yourself and send it off." The maid took the parcel away.
Violet Oliver, with a sigh of relief, drank her tea.