"It is a foolish way, this. There is a man in Amsterdam——"
"You will tell me what you advise, monsieur," the girl begged. "We must have money, and the jewels must be made unrecognisable."
Harvey Grimm took a small magnifying glass from his pocket and screwed it together.
"You have probably brought some of the stones with you," he observed briskly.
The girl hesitated. She turned to her companion as though for guidance. He was still mumbling to himself, however, something about Amsterdam.
"It is absolutely essential," Harvey Grimm continued, "that I should know something definite about the character of the stones you have to offer—that is if you wish me to deal with them."
There was a brief silence. Then the girl rose to her feet and deliberately turned away from the three men for several moments. When she swung around again, she held in her hand a small chamois leather bag. Very carefully she opened and shook out its contents into the palm of Harvey Grimm's outstretched hand.
"The large one," she said simply, "belonged to an American millionaire. My brother says that it is worth twenty thousand pounds. He, too, is a wonderful judge of precious stones."
The old man seemed to wake up for a moment.
"It is worth," he faltered, "a king's ransom."