"What?"
"Why you were sent on this hazardous mission. You are quite sufficient unto yourself. I believed I was doing a fine, brave thing."
"Ah, but it was a fine, brave thing. You made it possible for me to go on. Secret service!"
"It would be useless to deny it." She leaned on her elbows, locking her ringless fingers under her chin. "It's not generally known, but I am of Danish stock. I came to America when I was very little. I spoke no English. There were lean years; yes, even poverty. But I had a little talent—the faculty of making people smile. Not all aliens are ungrateful. This is now my country. I love it!" Her eyes flashed. "It made me all I am, gave me all I have. It has been glorious to me. Long ago I vowed if ever the chance came I would pay back these benefactions—with my life if need be!"
Mathison's conduct was logical enough. All he had wanted was to see her, hear her voice for a little while, get one absolute fact, a fact she could not withhold from him, being unaware of what he was seeking. He would satisfy his curiosity, disperse these mysteries, after his work was done. Before this night was over one of two things was going to happen. He was going to succeed or he was going to be badly hurt. He now had a tolerably keen insight into the character of this glorious woman. She was brave and resourceful. The slightest hint of what was on foot and she might seek to intervene, with the best of intentions, and spoil everything. But day after to-morrow—when he returned from Washington!
"It is very wonderful to be here to-night," he said.
After that her heart grew warm again. She, too, knew the value of sounds. At least he was grateful. That weapon in his pocket—she longed to ask him about that. But a question here might alarm him. He must not suspect the plan she had in her head. Logically the great adventure was at an end; but they may have threatened his life. She stood up.
"I'm a brute!" he cried, contritely. "I forgot that you must be weary beyond measure."
He held the sable coat for her, particularly careful not to touch her. As she was wrapping the veil about her hair and face he asked if he might come to tea the day after.
"I'll tell you. In a little while I shall be in the thick of it. I may not come back. In my room at the hotel I've a little Rajputana parrakeet—green as an emerald. Fact is, he's the only pal I have to-day. He hates the sea. May I give him to you?"