"I wanted to consult you first, and..." She broke off sharply to ask:
"Yes, Jean: what is it?"

The footman had entered to bring her cards over which Eve de Montalais
arched her brows.

"Show the gentlemen in, please."

The servant retired.

"The men from Paris, madame?"

"Yes. You will excuse me--?"

Duchemin bowed. "But one word: You can hardly do better than put the
case in the hands of these gentlemen. They are apt to be of a good
order of intelligence when selected to serve bankers, you know."

"I understand," she replied in her cool, sweet voice.

She went to meet the men in the middle of the room. Duchemin turned
back to the window, where, standing in the recess, with the light
behind him, he could watch and reflect without his interest or
emotions, becoming too apparent. And he was grateful for that moment of
respite in which to compose and prepare himself. Within an hour, he
knew, within a day or so at most, he must be under arrest, charged with
the theft of the Montalais jewels, damned by his yesterday as much as
by every turn of circumstantial evidence....

The men whom Jean ushered in proved to be, outwardly, what Duchemin had