"Nearer than you imagine, perhaps," Aaron Rodd whispered. "Here's Brodie."
Harvey Grimm was, for a moment, curiously still. His frame seemed to have stiffened into a sort of rigid attention. One felt that his brain was working with the same concentrated force. He neither moved nor looked in the direction which his companion had indicated. Instead he leaned a little further back in the corner of the seat and lit a cigarette.
"One needs to remember," he murmured, "that it is really quite a long time since I have seen this unwelcome intruder upon our privacy."
Brodie came strolling along the asphalt walk, puffing out his cheeks and gazing about him, as though exercise and an interested contemplation of the river were the sole reason for his peregrinations. He appeared to recognise the two men only in the act of passing them. He at once stopped short and greeted them in his usual hearty fashion.
"Pleasant little spot, this, for an hour's recreation," he declared. "I was thinking about you, by the by, Grimm, as I walked along."
"I am flattered," was the calm reply. "I should have thought that all your attention would have been engrossed upon the little affair over yonder. I understand that Madame de Borria has placed the recovery of her necklace in your hands. Quite a feather in your cap, my friend, if you succeed."
Brodie glanced casually at the block of buildings in front.
"Yes," he assented, "I have that on my mind, of course. By the by, were you going back to your rooms, by any chance?"
"I was on my way there."
"Come, that's fortunate. With your permission, we will walk along together."