understood by both of them. Maybe her story was
true--only the future would prove it. Meanwhile you trust at your peril,
_caveat emptor_, your eyes are your market, or words to similar effect.
Of course he could cause her to be apprehended by the police, yet such
a course was unthinkable; it would violate every rule of the game; it
would complicate relations with Germany, and afford her adequate ground
for reprisals on our secret agents. A certain code of honour obtained
with nations, as well as with criminals.

As he opened the door, the telephone rang. He took up the receiver.

"Hello!" he said.

"Is that you, Mr. Harleston?" came a soft voice.

"It is Madame X!" he smiled.

"Still Madame X?" she inflected.

"Only to one person."

"And to her no longer," she returned. "What are you doing?"

"Thinking about coming down to dine with you."

"Just what I was about to ask of you. Come at seven--to my apartment. I
have something important to discuss."

"So have I," he replied. "I'll be along in an hour, or sooner if you
want me."

"I want you, Mr. Harleston," she laughed, "but I can wait an hour, I
suppose."

"Which may mean much or little," he replied.

"Just so.--You may try your diplomatic methods on solving the problem."

"My methods or my mind?" he asked.

"Your mental methods," she replied.

"I pass!" he exclaimed. "You may explain at dinner."

"Meanwhile, I recommend you to your diplomatic mind."

"Until dinner?"

"Certainly--and forever after, Mr. Harleston, be an ordinary man with
me, please."

"Do you fancy that a _seeing_ man can be just an ordinary man when _you_
are with him?" he asked.

"I'm not required to fancy you what you're not," she returned.

"In other words, I'm not a seeing man?"

"Not especially, sir.--And there's another problem, for your diplomacy.
_A bientot_, Monsieur Harleston."

He telephoned to the Club for a taxi to be at the door at a quarter to
seven; then dressed leisurely and descended.

"Any developments?" he inquired of Miss Williams.

"None," she replied. "Ripples hasn't come down yet."

"All right," said he. "Tell me in the morning--you're on duty then?"

She answered by a nod, the flash was calling her, and he passed on
toward the door--just as the elevator shot down and Madeline Spencer
stepped out.

"How do you do, Mr. Harleston?" said she, with a broad smile.

"Hello, Mrs. Spencer! I'm glad to see you," he returned. "If you're
bound for the