Lanyard watched her with a puzzled smile. How much of this was acting? How much, if anything, an expression of true feeling? Was she actually persuaded it was waste of time to contend against him? Or was she shrewdly playing upon his not unfriendly disposition toward her in the hope that it would spare her in the hour of the grand débâcle?
He could be sure of one thing only: since she was a woman, he would never know...
Monk had been making ominous motions with the eyebrows, but Phinuit made haste to be beforehand with him.
"You said one thing, mademoiselle, one thing anyway that meant something: that Monsieur Lanyard would give up those jewels to us. That's all arranged."
Lanyard turned to him with genuine amusement. "Indeed, monsieur?"
"Indeed and everything! We don't want to pull any rough stuff on you, Lanyard, and we won't unless you force us to--"
"Rough stuff, monsieur? You mean, physical force?"
"Not exactly. But I think you'll recall my telling you I stand in well with the Police Department in the old home town. Maybe you thought that was swank. Likely you did. But it wasn't. I've got a couple of friends of mine from Headquarters waiting downstairs this very minute, ready and willing to cop out the honour of putting the Lone Wolf under arrest for stealing the Montalais jewels."
"But is it possible," Lanyard protested, "you still do not understand me? Is it possible you still believe I am a thief at heart and interested in those jewels only to turn them to my own profit?"
He stared unbelievingly at the frosty eyes of Monk beneath their fatuously stubborn brows, at the hard, unyielding eyes of Phinuit.