Larry showed nothing in his face, but his right toe tapped nervously on the soft carpet. Labar marked that movement.

“I’ve never heard of the lady,” said Larry easily, and rising, strolled to the mantel, and placed one arm upon it. His equanimity was to all seeming undisturbed.

Labar smiled, grimly. “Don’t waste your time standing. It was an oversight to leave the photograph there, if you meant to deny that you knew this lady. I have the portrait in my pocket.”

The right toe tapped a quick tattoo, and Larry eyed the other whimsically. He thrust up his hands. “Kamerad,” he cried. “I have heard of the efficiency of Scotland Yard. Now I see it. The merest little white lie, and you pounce, Mr. Labar. I do know Miss Noelson⁠—slightly. I hope to know her better. There’s an admission for you. Can you build something on that? Do you think that she stole the jewels, or did I?”