“I sent for you, my dear friend, because I want you,” he said, in a low voice, gazing straight at him.
“Anything good?” asked the other, stretching out his legs and placing his clasped hands behind his head wearily.
“Yes, an easy job. The usual game.”
“A jeweller’s?”
Ansell nodded in the affirmative.
“Where?”
“Not far from here.”
“Much stuff?”
“A lot of good stones.”
“And the safe?”