"May I speak to you a moment?" asked Keenan, taking a step nearer to her as he spoke. She seemed able, even under his quiet composure, to detect some note of alarm.
"Will you come in?" she asked, holding the door wide for him.
"If you don't mind the intrusion."
She had closed the door, and stood facing him, interrogatively.
"What I am going to ask you, Miss Allen, is something unusual. But this past week has shown me that you are an unusual woman." He hesitated, in doubt as to how to proceed.
"In America," she said, laughing a little, to widen his avenue of approach, "you would call me emancipated, wouldn't you?"
He bowed and laughed a little in return.
"But let me explain," he went on. "I am in what you might call a dilemma. For some reason or other certain persons here are watching and following me, night and day. In America—which, thank God, is a land of law and order—this sort of thing wouldn't disturb me. But here"—he gave a little shrug—"well, you know what they say about Italy!"
"Then I wasn't mistaken!" she cried, with a well-rung note of alarm.
He looked at her, narrowly.