"Dear me," she said, "what a magnificent nerve that woman must have! To dare to imagine that I should receive her! Why, she is known in every capital in Europe—a police spy, a creature whose brains and body and soul are to be bought by any one's gold."
"What on earth can such a woman want here?" I remarked.
"In hiding, very likely," Lady Angela remarked. "Or perhaps she may be an additional complication for you."
I laughed a little scornfully.
"You, too, are getting suspicious," I declared. "The Prince and Mrs.
Smith-Lessing are a strong combination."
"Be careful then that they are not too strong for you," she answered, smiling. "I have heard a famous boast of Mrs. Smith-Lessing's, that never a man nor a lock has yet resisted her."
I thought of her face as I had seen it in the half light—a faint impression of delicate colourlessness, and for the life of me I could not help a little shiver. Lady Angela looked at me in surprise.
"Are you cold?" she asked. "Let us walk more quickly."
"It is always cold at this time in the evening," I remarked. "It is the mist coming up from the marshes. One feels it at unexpected moments."
"I am not going to take you any farther," she declared, "especially as you are coming up to-night. Eight o'clock, remember. Go and salve your conscience with some work."