Back to the lock-picking figure Napier's eyes came, from praying pardon of the girl with the plaits leaning out of the window. "Shame!" the girl cried.
"A case for cold chisel?" Singleton inquired, looking up from the libretto of Rosenkavalier. No answer from Grindley, but he put out his hand and felt under the corrugated paper in the attaché case. The hand came out with a chisel and a hammer.
"No! no!" cried Lady McIntyre on a note of firmness new to Napier's ears. "You said 'no forcing open.'"
"Unless we knew we were justified," amended Singleton. "We know now."
"You can't know."
"We have found enough to explain."
"Enough to explain what?"
"Why we are here. And why she shouldn't be."
Lady McIntyre turned, quivering, to Napier. "You know, don't you."
"I'm afraid,"—Napier interrupted—"what I know wouldn't help Miss Greta."