“So I understood.”
“Ah! Then you know German?” inquired Marguerite, with another doubtful glance.
“I get two pence a day extra pay for knowing German.”
Marguerite paused in her selection, of a breakfast roll from a silver basket containing that Continental choice of breads which look so different and taste so much alike.
“Seems to me,” she said confidentially, “that you know more than you appear to know.”
“Not such a fool as I look, in fact.”
“That is about the size of it,” admitted Marguerite, gravely. “Tony always says that the world sees more than any one suspect. Perhaps he is right.”
And both happening to look up at this moment, their glances met across the little table.
“Tony often is right,” said Major White.
There was a pause, during which Marguerite attended to the two small coffee-pots for which she had such a youthful and outspoken contempt. The privileges of her sex were still new enough to her to afford a certain pleasure in pouring out beverages for other people to drink.