"If you really wish to do so, monsieur! Indeed it would be the best thing to do...."
Thomery hailed a cab. He and the diamond agent entered it together, and she gave the driver an address. Twenty minutes later they left the cab and were standing before the house where the present possessor of the pearls was to be found. Thomery knew no more now about the person he had come to interview, than he did when he started: that is to say, practically nothing.
The diamond broker had cleverly evaded giving any direct answers to the sugar refiner's questions: she had confined herself to stating what would be the probable price demanded for the pearl collar—which question interested Thomery least of all!
They mounted, in single file, a rather poor sort of staircase: on the second floor the woman stopped. A narrow door faced them.... The woman rang.... They waited....
"Someone is coming!" said the woman. "I hear footsteps."
The door was opened half-way.
"Who is it?" asked a man's voice.
"I, dear friend," answered the woman.
The door opened wide: the same voice said:
"Come in, monsieur."