"Must I answer?" she asked appealingly.
"You must!"
"Señorita Rodriguez—my hostess! Don't you see what you've made me do? She and Mr. Cadwallader made the trip to Baltimore in his automobile, and—and—!" She stopped. "He knows nothing of it," she added.
"Yes, I know," said Mr. Grimm.
He stood looking at her in silence for a moment, staring deeply into the pleading eyes; and a certain tense expression about his lips passed. For an instant her hand trembled on his arm, and he caught the fragrance of her hair.
"Where is she now?" he asked.
"Playing bridge," replied Miss Thorne, with a sad little smile. "It is always so—at least twice a week, and she rarely returns before two or half-past." She extended both hands impetuously, entreatingly. "Please be generous, Mr. Grimm. You have the gold; don't destroy her."
Señor Rodriguez, the minister from Venezuela, found the gold in his safe on the following morning, with a brief note from Mr. Grimm, in which there was no explanation of how or where it had been found.... And two hours later Monsieur Boisségur, ambassador from France to the United States, disappeared from the embassy, vanished!