“We could, of course, but it would surely be a trifle unfair to the owner?”
“I don’t care about that,” confessed Pen. “It would be dreadful to be arrested for thieving, and I know we shall be!”
“Oh, I trust not!” Sir Richard said. He straightened the necklace, where it lay on the table, and looked down at it with a slight frown creasing his brow. “Yes,” he said meditatively. “I have seen you before. Now, where have I seen you before?”
“Do please put it away!” begged Pen. “Only think if a servant were to come into the room!”
He picked it up. “My lamentable memory! Alas, my lamentable memory! Where, oh, where have I seen you?”
“Dear sir, if Jimmy Yarde finds us, he will very likely cut our throats to get the necklace back!”
“On the contrary, I have his word for it that he is opposed to all forms of violence.”
“But when he does not discover it in my pocket, where he placed it—and now I come to think of it, he actually had my coat in his hands—he must guess that we have discovered it!”
“Very likely he will, but I cannot see what profit there would be in his cutting our throats.” Sir Richard restored the necklace to its leather purse, and dropped it into his pocket. “We have now nothing to do but to await the arrival of Jimmy Yarde. Perhaps—who knows?—we may induce him to divulge the ownership of the necklace. Meanwhile, this parlour is very stuffy, and the night remarkably fine. Do you care to stroll out with me to admire the stars, brat?”
“I suppose,” said Pen defiantly, “that you think I am very poor-spirited!”