“You see, Great-uncle Schlippenbach wrote me that he was going to Budavia and asked me if I would like to go with him and see my sister in Kürschdorf,” she explained. “That was reasonable enough—there was nothing insane about that, was there? My school term had just ended, and it was a question whether I should make my home with my sister over here or return to America with him.”
“And he told you I was your uncle?”
“Oh, yes. You know I have an uncle in New York. His name is Max Arndt. That is true. And he told me that you were he.”
Grey shook his head in token of his perplexity.
“What became of your Great-uncle Schlippenbach’s luggage?” he asked, suddenly, after a pause.
“I have it with me,” the girl answered, frankly. “I shall take it to my sister’s.”
“No. I thought that she and I would open it together.”
“It is possible, you know, that it may contain something that will give us a hint as to his motive in this matter,” Grey said, in explanation of his interest.
“Oh, I do hope so,” the Fräulein returned. “I am so anxious about it.”