She turned her head a little lazily and looked at her neighbour. His expression was entirely sympathetic.
"Your jewellery?"
"Deposited with the purser."
"I congratulate you," he said.
"Nothing has been stolen," she observed, "but one hates the feeling of insecurity, all the same. Both my steward and stewardess are old friends. It must have been a very clever person who found his way into my room."
"A very clever person," Mr. Fischer objected, "would have known that you had deposited your jewels with the purser."
"If it was my jewels of which they were in search," Pamela murmured. "By the bye, do you remember all that fuss about the disappearance of a young soldier that morning at Henry's?"
Fischer nodded.
"I heard something about it," he confessed. "They were talking about it at dinner-time."
"I had an idea that you might be interested," Pamela went on. "He was rather a foolish young man. He came into the restaurant telling every one at the top of his voice that he had made a great discovery! Even in London, which is, I should think, the most prosaic city in the world, there must be people who are on the lookout to pick up war secrets."