"I beg your pardon."

A gentleman rose and bowed gravely.

"I am Mr. Grimm of the Secret Service," he informed her with frank
courtesy. "I am afraid you were expecting some one else; I handed my
card to the footman."

For an instant the blue-gray eyes opened wide in astonishment, and then
some quick, subtle change swept over Miss Thorne's face. She smiled
graciously and motioned him to a seat.

"This is quite a different meeting from the one Senorita Rodriguez had
planned, isn't it?" she asked.

There was a taunting curve on her scarlet lips; the shadow passed from
her eyes; her slim, white hands lay idle in her lap. Mr. Grimm regarded
her reflectively. There was a determination of steel back of this
charming exterior; there was an indomitable will, a keen brain, and all
of a woman's intuition to reckon with. She was silent, with a
questioning upward slant of her arched brows.

"I am not mistaken in assuming that you are a secret agent of the
Italian government, am I?" he queried finally.

"No," she responded readily.

"In that event I may speak with perfect frankness?" he went on. "It
would be as useless as it would be absurd to approach the matter in any
other manner?" It was a question.

Miss Thorne was still smiling, but again the vague, indefinable shadow,
momentarily lifted, darkened her eyes.

"You may be frank, of course," she said pleasantly. "Please go on."

"Senor Alvarez was shot at the German Embassy Ball last night," Mr.
Grimm told her.

Miss Thorne nodded, as if in wonder.

"Did you, or did you not, shoot him?"

It was quite casual. She received the question without change of
countenance, but involuntarily she caught her breath. It might have
been a sigh of relief.

"Why do you come to me with such a query?" she asked in turn.

"I beg your pardon," interposed Mr. Grimm steadily. "Did you, or did you
not, shoot him?"

"No, of course I didn't shoot him," was the reply. If there was any
emotion in the tone it was merely impatience. "Why do you come to me?"
she repeated.

"Why do I come to you?" Mr. Grimm echoed the question, while his
listless eyes rested on her face. "I will be absolutely frank, as I feel
sure you would be under the same circumstances." He paused a moment; she
nodded. "Well, immediately after the shooting you ran along the hallway
with a revolver in your hand; you ran down the steps into the kitchen,
and out through the back door, where you entered an automobile. T