making use of my knowledge to restore the jewels without risk of falling into the hands of the police. That will be an easy matter. … And that brings me to a great favour I would beg of you."
She gave him a look so unexpectedly kind that it staggered him. But he had himself well in hand.
"You can't now leave Paris before morning—thanks to my having overslept," he explained. "There's no honest way I know to raise money before the pawn-shops open. But I'm hoping that won't be necessary; I'm hoping I can arrange matters without going to that extreme. Meanwhile, you agree that these jewels must be returned?"
"Of course," she affirmed gently.
"Then … will you accompany me when I replace them? There won't be any danger: I promise you that. Indeed, it would be more hazardous for you to wait for me elsewhere while I attended to the matter alone. And I'd like you to be convinced of my good faith."
"Don't you think you can trust me for that as well?" she asked, with a flash of humour.
"Trust you!"
"To believe … Mr. Lanyard," she told him gently but earnestly, "I do believe."
"You make me very happy," he said … "but I'd like you to see for yourself. … And I'd be glad not to have to fret about your safety in my absence. As a bureau of espionage, Popinot's brigade of Apaches is without a peer in Europe. I am positively afraid to leave you alone. …"
She was silent.
"Will you come with me, Miss Shannon?"
