“Mrs. Smythe.”
“Is it possible?” exclaimed the captain.
“I am not at all surprised,” interjected the general. “She must go, even if she succeeds in clearing herself.”
Grace hastened to urge that no suspicion be directed at Mrs. Smythe, who, she declared, was a vain woman who had been used by the German spies because they knew how to appeal to her vanity. In this way they obtained information that the supervisor did not realize she was giving.
“You speak of spies. I heard references made to at least one this evening. Do you suspect any others?” asked the captain.
“I know one other, sir. That one is the supervisor’s maid, Marie Debussy!”
“Are you positive?” asked the general.
“I am, sir. I have heard conversations between her and the doctor. I have seen her acting suspiciously and in conference with men that I was certain were enemy officers, and I have heard her holding telephone conversations that connected her with plots against our men.”
“I wonder who she can be?” marveled the captain.
“Who she is? She is Rosa von Blum, the famous German agent.”