be used to identify you over the telephone."

"I hesitate to go to the Embassy without the letter," she said.

"Why do you hesitate?" he smiled.

"Because I--don't want to admit defeat."

"Which of itself will serve to substantiate your story. One skilled in
the game would have lost no time in informing the Embassy of the loss
of the letter. He would have realized that, next to the letter itself,
the news of its seizure was the best thing he could deliver--also, it
was his _duty_ to advise the Embassy at the quickest possible moment.
You see, dear lady, personal pride and pique play no part in this game.
They are not even considered; it's the execution of the mission that's
the one important thing; all else is made to bend to that single end."

"Then I should go to the French Embassy tonight with my story?" she
asked.

"You should have gone this morning--the instant you were returned to the
hotel! Now, unless Madame Durrand had written about you, it's a pretty
good gamble that the Spencer crowd has forestalled you."

"Forestalled me! What do you mean?"

"Mrs. Spencer admitted to me that your release was someone's blunder.
The normal thing was to hold you prisoner and so prevent you from
communicating with the Ambassador until they had obtained the letter or
defeated its purpose. That was not done; but Spencer, you may assume,
has attempted to rectify their blunder--possibly by impersonating you,
and giving the Marquis d'Hausonville some tale that will fall in with
her plans and gain time for her."

"Impersonating me!" Mrs. Clephane exclaimed incredulously.

"Yes. She knows all the material circumstance--witness the telephone
call that inveigled you into the drive up the Avenue, _et cetera_--and
she'll take the chance that you are not known to the Marquis nor any of
the staff, or even the chance that Madame Durrand has not yet informed
them. Indeed she may have taken precautions against her informing them.
A few bribes to the hospital attendants, carefully distributed, would be
sufficient. It's not everyone who could, or would venture to, pull off
the coup, but with Spencer the very daring of a thing adds to its
pleasure and its zest."

"You amaze me!" Mrs. Clephane replied. "I thought also that diplomacy
was the gentlest-mannered profession in the world--and the most
dignified."

"It is--on the surface. Fine residences, splendid establishments,
brilliant uniforms, much bowing and many genuflections, plenty