Danby Force did not answer. A slight tightening of the hand was his only reply.
“But look!” he exclaimed suddenly. “Your knuckles are bleeding!”
“It’s nothing,” she laughed. “I can’t make the silly things stop.” Deftly she twisted her handkerchief about the offending knuckles. Then the dance went on.
“I fell upon something rather rough and bad,” she said after a time in quite an absent-minded manner.
“Have you found our spy?” Danby Force asked, after thanking her for his good time when the dance was over.
“Not yet.” Suddenly Florence felt very weary.
“I’m working on it. There’s a hunchback German and two dark-faced ladies and a little fellow like an ape who rakes leaves. It must be one of these.”
“But may not be,” he said quietly. “You will do well to keep right on looking.”
“Now what did he mean by that?” she asked herself after he was gone. “Does he suspect someone else, someone who has not even caught my attention? Perhaps I’m not much good as a lady cop after all.”
With that she entered the little cottage that for the time was her home.