“Did Crandall raise much hell?”
“Enough.”
She laughed exultantly. “Where are they?”
Druse tapped his pocket, watched her face in the pale orange glow of her cigarette.
She got up, held out her hand. “May I see them?”
Druse said: “Certainly.” He took a long flat jewel-case of black velvet out of his inside coat-pocket and handed it to her.
She opened the case and went to the door to the living room, looked at its contents by the light there, said: “They are awfully beautiful, aren’t they?”
“They are.”
She snapped the case closed, came back and sat down.
Druse said: “I think I’d better take care of them a little while longer.”