’ ‘I presume you were not with her in France?’ Kimble stared. It was high afternoon, there was no great throng of footpassengers, and many an eye from omnibus and pavement rested gratefully on her fresh, trim presence as she passed young and erect, with the light of determination shining through the quiet self-possession of her face. If you knew anything about Canton ware, you were, as like as not, sorely tempted to stuff a teacup into your pocket. He was only a younger son, and you know what trouble we had. He introduced her as his \"friend\" Lucy. I've my own reasons for disliking this job. She was unusually soft and gentle in her manner to him. Not the most stringent search, conducted all morning, turned up one solitary sheet.
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