"I supposed you did," he said smilingly. "Please ask him the shortest way to the United States Consulate."
She turned indifferently to the porter: "Wat is de Kortste weg naar——"
She hesitated, then with a dainty malice indescribable—"—Naar the Yankee Consulate?" she added calmly.
Guild reddened and strolled a few steps forward, thoroughly incensed.
The porter smothered a smile: "Mejuffrouw—" he began, "ga recht uit links, en den de derde Straat rechts——"
"Hoe ver is het?"
The porter glanced sideways and cunningly after Guild, then sank his voice: "Freule—" he began, but the girl's haughty amazement silenced him. He touched his cap and muttered in English: "Madam is known to me. The chain is long from London to Trois Fontaines. I am only another link in that chain—at madam's service."
"I am served—sufficiently. Find a motor cab and tell the driver to take us to the United States Consulate."
The porter's visage expressed sullen curiosity: "Why," he asked in German, "does the gracious, well-born young lady desire to visit the American Consulate when the German Consulate is possibly expecting her?"
At that she straightened up, staring at the man out of coldly insolent eyes.