“Doubtless you already know the tale,” Carpenter remarked.
“I know only what Mrs. Clephane has told me,” Harleston replied.
The Fifth Assistant Secretary picked up a ruler and sighted carefully along the edge.
“I seem to be in wrong, old man,” he said. “Please forget that I ever said it or anything—you understand.”
“My dear fellow, don’t be an ass!” Harleston laughed. “I’m not sensitive about the lady; I never saw her until last night.”
“Quite long enough for a man disposed to make a fool of himself—if the lady is a beauty.”
“I’m disposed to hear more from you, if you care to tell me,” Harleston replied. “However, jesting aside, Carpenter, what do you know? Mrs. Clephane is something of a puzzle to me, but I have concluded to accept her story; yet I’m always open to conviction, and if I’m wrong now’s the time to enlighten me—the State comes first, you know.”
“Are you viewing Mrs. Clephane simply as a circumstance in the affair of the cipher letter?” Carpenter asked.
“Certainly!” said Harleston.
“Then I’ll give you what I heard. It’s not much, and it may be false; it’s for you to judge, in the light of all that you know concerning her, whether or not it affects her credibility. Mrs. Clephane went with a notoriously fast set in Paris, and her reputation was somewhat cloudy.”