“That in some way, yet to be discovered, Jessica and her gang--for they are a gang--and the Metropolitan Secret Agency, are playing each other’s game and have played it for a long time. Incidentally I have found out, too, that La Planta once represented an insurance company in Amsterdam, of which Lord Froissart was chairman or director, and that----” “Forgive my interrupting you, Hopford,” Preston cut in, “but what you say reminds me that I too was told, by a Major Guysburg I met in Dieppe. He is a man you ought to meet; he was leaving for America when we parted, but ought soon to be back, and he promised to look me up in town on his return. And he can tell you a lot about Alphonse Michaud, who, he assured me, at one time ran a most disreputable haunt in Amsterdam.” Hopford produced his notebook. “How do you spell the major’s name?” he asked quickly, and Preston told him. “And where does he stay when in town?” “At Morley’s Hotel, I believe,” and Hopford wrote that down too. “Now for heaven’s sake don’t say ‘how small the world is,’ Preston,” Hopford observed lightly as he replaced his notebook in his pocket, “because that is a platitude which makes me see red. I must see Guysburg directly he arrives in London. Certainly we are getting on. I suppose Guysburg didn’t speak about a diamond robbery in Amsterdam from a merchant living in the Kalverstraat, which took place some years ago? The thief was never caught.” Preston laughed. “The very thing he did tell me,” he answered. “The stones had been insured by Michaud, to whom the insurance money was paid under protest because the idea had got about that Michaud himself, or some person employed by him, had stolen them.” Hopford turned to the French woman-detective, and raised his eyebrows. “You hear that?” he said to her in French. “Isn’t it strange how small--no, I won’t say it! Mademoiselle was employed,” he addressed Preston again, “on that very case in Amsterdam, and feels as convinced to-day as she did then that Michaud, aided by La Planta, spirited away the stones. Yet nothing could be proved. There were not even sufficient clues to justify the arrest of either of the two men. By the way, I am trying to get mademoiselle to return to London with me, and she hopes she will be able to. Also I have forgotten to tell you that Idris Llanvar is a famous mental specialist practicing here in Paris--isn’t that so, Llanvar? Years ago he was Johnson’s _locum tenens_ in Shanghai, when Johnson practiced in Hong Kong. It was Johnson who kindly gave me an introduction to him, when he and I met in Jersey. Aren’t you glad, Preston, that Johnson is going to marry Mrs. Hartsilver? I think she is such a charming woman, though I don’t know her very well. But I met the late Henry Hartsilver once or twice--a typical profiteer, and, I thought, a most offensive person. She was well rid of him. Did you know Sir Stephen Lethbridge?” Preston looked at Hopford oddly.