"Thieves' argot," said Mrs. Chedsoye contemptuously.
The butler laughed. He knew Gioconda of old.
"Where's that wall-safe?" the Major wanted to know.
"Behind that sketch by Detaille." And the butler, strange to say, pronounced it Det-i.
"Can you open it?"
"Tried, but failed. Wallace is the man for that."
"He'll be along in an hour or so."
"Where's Ryanne?"
"Don't know; don't care." The Major sketched the predicament of their fellow-conspirator.
The butler whistled, but callously. One more or less didn't matter in such an enterprise.