She stared at me. Her breast heaved, and her eyes grew wide and round.
“You don’t mean—that you’re in on that?”
I nodded. There was no doubt that I had scored heavily. Her emotion, as she regarded me, was only too evident. For some few seconds, she remained silent, staring at me. Then she nodded her head emphatically.
“Well, if that doesn’t beat the band! Tote me round. I want to see all the horrors.”
“What do you mean?”
“What I say. Bless the boy, didn’t I tell you I doted on crimes? What do you think I’m imperilling my ankles for in high-heeled shoes over this stubble? I’ve been nosing round for hours. Tried the front way in, but that old stick-in-the-mud of a French gendarme wasn’t taking any. I guess Helen of Troy, and Cleopatra, and Mary, Queen of Scots, rolled in one wouldn’t cut ice with him! It’s a real piece of luck happening on you this way. Come on, show me all the sights.”
“But look here—wait a minute—I can’t. Nobody’s allowed in. They’re awfully strict.”
“Aren’t you and your friend the big bugs?”
I was loath to relinquish my position of importance.
“Why are you so keen?” I asked weakly. “And what is it you want to see.”