“Connie, I’ve been thinking about that necklace again.”
Lady Constance laughed.
“Oh, don’t be silly, Joe. You haven’t called me into this stuffy room on a lovely morning like this to talk about that for the hundredth time.”
“Well, you know, there’s no sense in taking risks.”
“Don’t be absurd. What risks can there be?”
“There was a burglary over at Winstone Court, not ten miles from here, only a day or two ago.”
“Don’t be so fussy, Joe.”
“That necklace cost nearly twenty thousand pounds,” said Mr. Keeble, in the reverent voice in which men of business traditions speak of large sums.
“I know.”
“It ought to be in the bank.”