"Superb," I answered. "I doubt if I ever saw finer ones."
"Do they arouse your cupidity?"
"Not one bit," I answered. "No more than a stag in a man's park would arouse the cupidity of a sportsman."
"I suppose," said John, in his easy voice, "that even when in active business there is a good deal of honour amongst thieves?"
"A good deal," I answered, "but you can't always bank on it; any more than you can on honour amongst politicians or high financiers. Still, there's a certain amount. There is a man in this city who arranges for the theft of such jewels as these. He supplies the cracksman with the necessary information and details one of his mob to do the job. Very often the chief is not dead sure himself as to what other jewels there may be, and which are real and which are imitations. Yet when the burglar has made his haul he takes the lot straight to headquarters, where they are assayed in the laboratory and then turned over to a third party to dispose of. There's little doubt but that these transactions are practically always carried on strictly on the level. Moreover, there's a sinking fund for protecting members of the gang that get nabbed and tiding over others that are in a run of bad luck. Paris is a great town for organised crime."
John nodded and beckoned to the maître d'hôtel to fill his champagne glass, and again I saw that faint shadow cross Edith's face.
When we reached the Opera the house was already filled. Edith and Miss Dalghren sat in
