“It really is not necessary. . ’ ‘You, perhaps?’ she flung at him furiously, stepping out from behind the desk. “You may call anytime. “My dad is into this stuff. “You cannot! Oh, you cannot. . “Well,” she admitted. I thought my sister and her murdered husband dragged me hither, to this very room, and commanded you to slay me. Your mother, for instance, couldn’t. “Maybe someday I can look them up again, just to see how they are doing. ’ ‘That is what you think? Let us try!’ ‘Don’t be idiotic!’ She was backing from him, reaching through one of the slits she had carefully manufactured in her petticoat. “Go on!” “You know—in Paris they coupled my name with some one’s—an Englishman’s. He looked at his port wine as though that tawny ruby contained the solution of the matter.
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