"You have questions to ask me, hein?"
"It is true, Major Marchand," she murmured, struggling for self-control. "I am eaten up by curiosity."
"Is it only curiosity that troubles you, Mademoiselle?" he said dryly.
"No! No! I am seriously alarmed. I am anxious—for a friend." Her voice was tense.
"You received a certain message?" he asked.
"Oh, yes, Major Marchand! And that excites me," she replied, more calmly now. "Was it really you who dropped the paper bomb at my feet?"
His eyes danced for a moment. "That was entirely—what you call—by chance. Mademoiselle, I spied you, and having the written message of your friend I inserted it in the bomb, twisted the neck of it, and let it fall at your feet. You are, of course, acquainted with Lieutenant Cameron?"
"He is the twin brother of my dearest friend," Ruth replied. "Helen is in Paris—helping make soup for French orphans," and she smiled. "Something that I have heard has worried me vastly about Tom." Her smile disappeared and her gaze at the French major was pleading.
His own countenance again fell into serious lines, and he tapped the table thoughtfully. Ruth clasped her hands as she waited. She felt that something untoward was about to be made known to her. There was something about Tom which would shock her.
"I am sorry, Mademoiselle," murmured the major. "Here is something said about Lieutenant Cameron."