“Anything the matter?” the timorous one demanded eagerly.
“Why should there be?” Denby returned. “Don’t worry, Monty, there’s nothing to get nervous about yet.”
Monty remembered the confidential conversation between the two.
“He seemed to have a lot to tell you,” he insisted.
Denby smiled. “He did; but he came as a friend. Harlow wanted to warn me that while I was buying the necklace a stranger was mightily interested and asked Harlow what he knew about me.”
“There you are,” Monty gasped excitedly, “I told you it was all up. Did Harlow know who the man was?”
“He suspected him of being a customs spy. Our customs service takes the civilized world as its hunting ground and Paris is specially beloved of it.”
“What are you going to do?” Monty asked when he had looked suspiciously at an amiable old priest who went ambling by. “They’ll get you.”
“They may,” Denby said, “but the interested gentleman at Cartier’s won’t.”
“But he knows all about you,” Monty persisted. “It will be dead easy.”