Barres led his comrade forward and presented him:
“A fellow student of the Beaux Arts,” he explained, “and we’ve had a very jolly evening together. And, Thessa, there is something in particular that I should like to have you explain to Monsieur Renoux, if you don’t mind....” He turned and looked at Dulcie: “If you will pardon us a moment, Sweetness.”
She nodded and smiled and took Westmore’s arm again, and continued the dance alone with him while Barres, drawing Thessalie’s arm through his, and passing his other arm through Renoux’s, walked leisurely through his studio, through the now open folding doors, past his bedroom and Westmore’s, and into the latter’s studio beyond.
“Thessa, dear,” he said very quietly, “I feel very certain that the worst of your troubles are about to end——” He felt her start slightly. “And,” he continued, “I have brought my comrade, Renoux, here to-night so that you and he can clear up a terrible misunderstanding.
“And Monsieur Renoux, once a student of architecture at the Beaux Arts, is now Captain Renoux of the Intelligence Department in the French Army——”
Thessalie lost her colour and a tremor passed through the arm which lay within his.
But he said calmly:
“It is the only way as well as the best way, Thessa. I know you are absolutely innocent. I am confident that Captain Renoux is going to believe it, too. If he does not, you are no worse off. Because it has already become known to the French Government that you are here. Renoux knew it.”
They had halted; Barres led Thessalie to a seat. Renoux, straight, deferential, correct, awaited her pleasure.