"Your hopeless inefficiency, monsieur.... Forgive my bluntness."
"Come through," Phinuit advised in a dangerous voice. "Just what do you mean?"
"I mean that you, knowing I have but one object in submitting to association with you in any way, to wit, the recovery of the jewels of Madame de Montalais and their restoration to that lady, have not had sufficient wit to prevent my securing those jewels under your very noses."
"You mean to say you've stolen them?"
Lanyard nodded. "They are at present in my possession--if that confesses an act of theft."
Monk laughed discordantly. "Then I say you're a liar, Monsieur the Lone Wolf, as well as a fool!" His fist smote the desk again. "The Montalais jewels are here."
Lanyard shrugged.
"When did you lift them?" Phinuit demanded with sarcasm. "Tell us that!"
Lanyard smiled an exasperating smile, lounged low in his chair, and looked at the deck beams--taking occasion to note that the tell-tale had swung to true northwest. Ça va bien!
"Why, you insane impostor!" Monk stormed--"I had that box in my own hands no later than this afternoon."