n of femininity. He knew that it must be her bedroom that
lay beyond the door, and he found himself wondering what that was
like.

Presently he was seated by the little sham mahogany table, upon which
the big brass samovar steamed and whispered, listening to her and
watching her. She gave him his glass of the pale-yellow Russian tea
that neither cheers nor inebriates, but merely distends and
irrigates, and sat over against him, sipping at her glass and
returning his gaze with her steady eyes.

"I've only had this room a little time," she remarked. "I've had just
a bedroom before. But I had to have somewhere for people to come the
people who can't go to Mr. Selby, I mean. You know what they call me
at the Police Bureau? Mr. Selby's the vice-consul and I'm the
vice-vice. So this," her gaze traveled round the barren room with
gentle complacency "this is my Vice-vice Consulate."

"Oh!" Waters looked up at her over the rim of his glass with a
changed interest. "The vice-vice? That's a pretty good name. Then
you've been doin' this for fellers already?"

He marked a faintness of pink that dawned for a moment in her face at
the question. She smiled involuntarily and a little ruefully.

"Well," she hesitated; "I've tried, but I'm afraid I haven't actually
done anything for anybody. I haven't had a real chance yet. But,
anyhow, there's this room all ready and there's me; and any American
who can't go to Mr. Selby for help can come here."

He nodded.

"It was really from you I got the idea," she went on; "when you went
out of the Consulate like that and there was nowhere you could go.
And later on, there was a sailor from one of the ships, and
afterwards a man who said he was a Mormon missionary; and Mr. Selby
wouldn't couldn't see his way to do anything for them. The sailor was
brought in by two policemen, though he was only a boy! He couldn't
speak a word of Russian, of course, and it made me so sorry to think
of him all alone with those people, having things done to him and not
understanding anything. So, after hours, I went round to see the
Chief of Police."

Waters moved a little on his chair. Her face had a mild glow of
enthusiasm which touched it with sober beauty. He shook his head.

"He's no good," he said. "You hadn't oughter gone to him by
yourself."

"But," Miss Pilgrim protested, "lots of people have said that, and
it's all wrong. It was he that nicknamed me the 'vice-vice,' and now
all the police in the