I was horribly tempted to say things which must have sounded unutterably foolish. With an effort I restrained myself. I addressed her almost coldly.
"Miss Van Hoyt," I said, "I want to know whether you are the only woman in this hotel who uses—that perfume."
She took out her handkerchief. A little whiff of faint fragrance came floating out from its crumpled lace.
"You recognize it?"
"Yes!"
"So much the better!" she declared. "Let me tell you this at once. I have not come here to answer questions. I have come to ask them. Are you content?"
"I am content—so long as you are here," I murmured.
"The man whom you protected last night—whose life you probably saved—on your honor, was he a stranger to you?"
"On my honor he was," I answered gravely.
"You have never seen him before?"