Do you remember one afternoon ten years ago when I came to your house and borrowed a necklace of yours? Pierre, my husband, was working in a government office. We'd been invited to a ball at the palace so I needed to borrow some jewellery.
My dear friend, Mathilde. Let me tell you something. That necklace you borrowed from me wasn't a real diamond necklace. It wasn't valuable at all. The stones in the necklace were made of glass. It was worth five hundred francs at the most.