very time I counted upon your aid."

She flashed a glance at him as though awaiting an apology.

"I am extremely sorry," said Desmond, "if I had but known..."

Nur-el-Din nodded carelessly.

"I wish to pass the night here," she went on, "in fact, I may be
here for several days. They are becoming inconvenient in London,
you understand."

"But the theatre, your professional engagements?"

"Bah, I have left the theatre. I have had enough of these stupid
English people... they know nothing of art!"

Desmond reflected a moment. Nur-el-Din's manner was most
perplexing. What on earth could induce her to adopt this tone of
condescension towards him? It nettled him. He resolved to try and
find out on what it was based.

"I am only too happy to be of assistance to you," he said,
"especially in view of the letter of introduction you sent me,
but I must tell you plainly that what you ask is impossible."

"Impossible?" repeated Nur-el-Din, stamping her feet.
"Impossible? Do you know what you are saying?"

"Perfectly," replied Desmond negligently. "Obviously, you must
stay here for the rest of the night since you cannot return to
London until the trains start running, but to stay here
indefinitely as you propose to do is out of the question. People
would talk!"

"Then it is your business to see that they don't!"

"Your letter of introduction came from one whom I am always
anxious to oblige," Desmond went on. "But the service he is
authorized to claim from me does not entitle him to jeopardize my
other activities."

He drew a breath. It was a long shot. Would it draw her?

It did. Nur-el-Din fumbled in her bag, produced a leather
pocket-book and from it produced a slip of paper folded in two.

"Read that!" she cried, "and then you shall apologize!"

Desmond took the paper. It was a sheet torn from a book of German
military field messages. "Meldedienst" (Message Service) was
printed in German at the top and there were blanks to be filled
in for the date, hour and place, and at the bottom a printed form
of acknowledgment for the recipient to sign.

In a large ostentatious, upright German handwriting was written
what follows:

"To All Whom it May Concern.

"The lady who is the bearer of this, whose description is set out
overleaf, is entitled to the full respect and assistance of the
German forces on land and sea and in the air, wherever it may be.
Her person and property are inviolate.

"Given At Our Head