Daoud and Achmet, their spades over their shoulders, left the
cemetery, the latter the strangest, quaintest, most outlandish
figure ever seen on a Carolina road. Mr. Jelnik and I, with Boris
close beside us, walked more slowly.
"Shall you go on with the search?" I ventured presently.
"But where shall I begin now?" he wondered. "I have searched
everything and every place searchable."
"If Shooba hid them anywhere outside of that room, it must have been
in some place that Jessamine herself knew and could get at if she
wished; some particular place where nobody would dream of looking
for them. Women always choose hiding-places like that, and the
notion would suit Shooba's grim humor," I said.
"They who knew every nook and cranny of the house searched it pretty
thoroughly at the time," he reminded me. "I have fine-combed it
myself."
"I am so sorry! I wanted you to find them. But the fact that you
didn't surely couldn't make very much difference to you. One's
happiness doesn't depend upon anything so problematical."
He hesitated. "Aside from their value, which is by no means
inconsiderable, I--well, they would have made certain things easier
for me.
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