Grace smiled and handed him the promised gift, whereupon Madame’s rage broke out afresh.
“Girl, how dare you!”
“Won has been working for me, Mrs. Smythe. It is best that he go now. He has worked too faithfully for me to stand by and see him abused, begging your pardon.” Grace signalled to the Chinaman to be gone. He lost no time in leaving the place, giving Grace a sly wink and a grimace as he backed from the doorway. Molly Marshall saved the situation by leading Mrs. Smythe to the rear of the canteen, where she soon had the supervisor laughing. Shortly afterwards the young woman walked out with her, much to Grace’s relief.
“Chad came in here intending to keep her temper, but she lost it,” declared Elfreda.
“It was my fault that she did, Elfreda. Some one has been advising her to behave herself. It is my idea that she went to headquarters to enter a complaint against me this morning, but that she was advised to be good if she wished to remain with the Army of Occupation. Here, Buddy, are you headed in the direction of the Intelligence Department?” she called to a soldier who was passing. He said he could go that way, whereupon Grace asked him to carry a note and leave it there. The note, which she scribbled on a piece of wrapping paper, was addressed to Captain Boucher and read: “Yat Sen,” and was signed, “G. G.”
“More mystery?” questioned Elfreda.
“Oceans of it. Miss Marshall is a good-looking woman, isn’t she?”
“Yes, I suppose so, but I can’t get over my first impression that there is something queer about her. Doesn’t she impress you that way?”
“Considering what I know about her, she does.”
“Eh? What do you know?” demanded Elfreda.