"That's how it was done," he explained to the amazed diplomatist. "And now, please, have a servant hand my card to Miss Thorne."
XI
THE LACE HANDKERCHIEF
Still wearing the graceful, filmy morning gown, with an added touch, of scarlet in her hair—a single red rose—Miss Thorne came into the drawing-room where Mr. Grimm sat waiting. There was curiosity in her manner, thinly veiled, but the haunting smile still lingered about her lips. Mr. Grimm bowed low, and placed a chair for her, after which he stood for a time staring down at one slim, white hand at rest on the arm of the seat. At last, he, too, sat down.
"I believe," he said slowly, without preliminaries, "this is your handkerchief?"
He offered the lacy trifle, odd in design, unique in workmanship, obviously of foreign texture, and she accepted it.
"Yes," she agreed readily, "I must have dropped it again."
"That is the one handed to you by Señor Rodriguez," Mr. Grimm told her. "I think you said you lost it in his office yesterday afternoon?"
"Yes?" She nodded inquiringly.