"Well enough, thanks. She seems a nice little thing if a thought flighty."
"Flighty's the word. I guess you haven't known her long."
"Only met her last night, a few minutes before the raid."
"Nice place she's got . . ."
"Nice enough," Lanyard assented languidly.
"Get much of a show to look around while you were there?"
Lanyard opened his eyes. "You're not asking these questions for conversation's sake."
"You're dead right I'm not," Crane drawled, stroking his jaws. "Guess I may as well break it to you. Mrs. McFee reported this morning, her house had been broken into last night, some time between three o'clock and daylight, her safe opened—little tin box she keeps in her boodwah—and the pick of her jewels looted."
"So!" said Lanyard—"it's to that I owe this honour."
"You've had such a lot of experience in that line, I thought maybe you wouldn't mind giving me a few tips . . ."