Determined to press the opportunity, Jane endeavored to turn the conversation into personal channels.
“You are an American,” she said turning to Hoff, “are you not? I’m surprised that you are not in uniform, too.”
“A man does not necessarily need to be in uniform to be serving his government,” he replied. “Perhaps I am doing something more important.”
“But you are an American, aren’t you?” she persisted almost impudently, driven on by her eagerness to learn all she possibly could about him.
“I was born in Cincinnati,” he replied hesitantly.
She could not help observing how diplomatically he had parried both her questions. Mentally she recorded his exact words with the idea in her mind of repeating what he had said verbatim to her chief.
“Then you are doing work for the government?”
Intensely she waited for his answer. Surely he could find no way of evading such a direct inquiry as this.
“Every man who believes in his own country,” he answered, modestly enough, yet with a curious reservation that puzzled her, “in times like these is doing his bit.”
She felt far from satisfied. If he was born in America, if he really was an American at heart, his replies would have been reassuring, but his name was Hoff. His uncle was a German-American, a proved spy or at least a messenger for spies. If her guest still considered Prussia his fatherland the answers he had made would fit equally well.