It was not there and her heart sank.

Perhaps she had put it in one of the drawers.
She tried them all without result.
She stood by the desk a picture of perplexity, biting a finger thoughtfully.
"Thank goodness!" she said with a jump, for she saw the parcel on the mantel shelf, crossed the room and took it down.
With eager hands she tore off the covering and came to the familiar leather case.

Not until she had opened the padded lid and had seen the snuffbox reposing in a bed of cotton wool did she relapse into a long sigh of relief.
"Thank heaven for that," she said aloud.
"And me," said a voice.
She sprang up and turned round with a look of terror.
"Mr .-- Mr.Meredith," she stammered.
T.X.stood by the window curtains from whence he had made his dramatic entry upon the scene.
"I say you have to thank me also, Miss Bartholomew," he said presently.
"How do you know my name ?" she asked with some curiosity.
"I know everything in the world," he answered, and she smiled.

Suddenly her face went serious and she demanded sharply, "Who sent you after me--Mr.Kara ?" "Mr.Kara ?" he repeated, in wonder.
"He threatened to send for the police," she went on rapidly, "and I told him he might do so.

I didn't mind the police--it was Kara I was afraid of.