“In any case, once you accept the fact of an unsound mind, nothing need be logical. She went to you, plainly, in both instances, because your stay in Petersburg entitled you to her trust. Did you, in fact—” Nightingale reframed his question. “Were you able, this time, to help her dispose of her jewels?”

Mr. Majendie shot him a look as quick as any hamster’s. “No, sir. That is, the matter was in suspense. The Princess, you see, asked for payment in cash, which was, naturally, not available on the spot. Besides, before committing the firm to such a considerable undertaking I had to consult my partners, one of whom was in New York at the time. I did explain that we were more than interested, and I promised definite acceptance of at least part within a few days. This satisfied her—knowing the firm, as you said, obviously carried great weight. I offered to have the trunk, in which, believe it or not, my dear sir, the objects were stored, transferred to our strongroom or a bank, pending negotiation, but she argued—very convincingly, one must admit—that as she’d kept it safe for forty years she could do so a little longer. There was nothing to do but leave. Of course, she forbade us to communicate with her in any way until we heard from her again.”

“And you never did?”

“Oh, indeed yes! A letter arrived the very next morning—”

“Stamped?”

“No,” said Mr. Majendie, with submissive deprecation. “It was not, however, to arrange a further appointment. The Princess had changed her mind as to the manner of payment. Instead of giving her cash, we were, if we decided to take part or all of what she offered, to make over the value by cheque, direct, to any school for the daughters of the nobility.”

“What!”

“But that, my dear sir, was a cause widely supported by Russian ladies of wealth and family,” said Mr. Majendie in surprise. “The Empress Marie Fedorovna—”

“Yes, yes,” said Nightingale, recollecting himself. “I meant, it showed how much she was living in the past, in the Imperial Russian past. You would have been hard put to find a school that conformed to such an exclusive pattern in England now. Did you know that Ivan Karukhin, her grandson, lived with her?”

Mr. Majendie made a regretful little grimace, pursing his lips and putting his head to one side. “A young man whom, I feel, life has not treated kindly,” he said. “The Princess remained, essentially, formidable.”

“And do you know whether she was naturalised?”

“I’m afraid I’ve no idea. I wonder—” A gleam of cupidity appeared in Majendie’s eye. “Ivan Karukhin, whom I have not met, is at present, no doubt, too distressed to appreciate his new position. But I wonder—”