"A hundred and thirty-nine yards from this to the open street,"
said Raffles, "not counting the stairs. I suppose we COULD do
it in twenty seconds, but if we did we should have to jump the
gates. No, you must remember to loaf out at slow march, Bunny,
whether you like it or not."

"But you talked about a hiding-place for a night?"

"Quite so--for all night. We should have to get back, go on
lying low, and saunter out with the crowd next day--after doing
the whole show thoroughly."

"What! With gold in our pockets--"

"And gold in our boots, and gold up the sleeves and legs of our
suits! You leave that to me, Bunny, and wait till you've tried
two pairs of trousers sewn together at the foot! This is only
a preliminary reconnoitre. And here we are."

It is none of my business to describe the so-called Room of
Gold, with which I, for one, was not a little disappointed. The
glass cases, which both fill and line it, may contain unique
examples of the goldsmith's art in times and places of which
one heard quite enough in the course of one's classical
education; but, from a professional point of view, I would as
lief have the ransacking of a single window in the West End as
the pick of all those spoils of Etruria and of ancient Greece.
The gold may not be so soft as it appears, but it certainly
looks as though you could bite off the business ends of the
spoons, and stop your own teeth in doing so. Nor should I care