CHAPTER THIRTEEN
SHE turned the key, less noisily this time, and stepped into Denby’s room. Making her way to the drawer she gave it a gentle pull. But it was still fastened, and she grasped the heavy brass knife when of a sudden the room was full of light, and Denby stepped from the shadow of the door where he had been concealed.
“Oh!” she cried in terror, and turned her face away from him.
He walked slowly over to the table by which she stood.
“So you’ve come for the necklace, then? Why do you want it?”
She looked at him in desperation. Only the truth would serve her now.
“I am employed by the government. I was sent here to get it,” she answered.
“What?” he cried. “The charming Miss Cartwright a secret service agent! It’s quite incredible.”
“But it’s true,” she said.