[Again, finding himself unable to quite lie, be it for the sake of preservation of feelings or his own gain or otherwise, some colour hastens onto Marius' face.]

He knows not, to be sure... he was sick with fever, at the time of its being lost.

But that he thinks so is certain.

[Still, while it was likely, her having it did not perhaps mean she'd stolen it. Especially if she might be willing enough to return it.]

I know not what to believe, only that it ought to be returned.

[He should make a habit of it himself, having the Inspector's pistols still.]