"If you mean she is only a tool," said I, "that is almost as unlikely as revenge."
"On the contrary, why couldn't it be both—and, also, a big pile of money?" he asked.
"Because," said I, "she would balk at the notoriety."
Courtney laughed. "Good, yellow gold, and plenty of it, is a wonderful persuader."
"Come," said I; "what's your guess in the matter?"
He tossed aside his cigarette and leaned a bit forward in his chair.
"The lady has been purchased by someone to come here and pose as your wife; the moving consideration to her was enough cash to make her independently rich and the pleasure of thus being able to square off with you, on her own account. That's my guess—and I fancy it's yours too," he ended.
I laughed. "Yes," said I; "it is. I spent the night over the mix and that's the best solution I could make."
Courtney lit a fresh cigarette, "Of course, it's Lotzen," said he. "And a very clever plot it is. No Princess and no Crown for you, my boy, until this Madame Armand Dalberg is eliminated—and, maybe, not even then."
"Your 'then' is the only rift in the cloud," said I. "Eliminate the Spencer woman, and, I think, I can manage."