"You're back—and safe?" he asked.
She forced a smile.
"Yes, back safe and sound!"
"But tired, I know?"
"Yes—a little. But—"
She broke off, and he could see that she was rising from her momentary luxury of relaxation as a fugitive rises after a minute's breathing-spell.
"Well?" he asked anxiously.
"Pobloff has found us!" she said, in her quiet contralto.
"He's here, you mean?"
"He's in Genoa. I caught sight of him in a cab, hurrying from the French Consulate to the Cafe Jazelli. I slipped into a silversmith's shop, as he raced past, and escaped him."