“Then that woman is actually a spy!” cried His Excellency.
“Without the slightest doubt,” responded Kaye. “My inquiries in Berlin and Brussels have substantiated our suspicions. She is one of the smartest secret agents in Europe.”
“I know that she is a friend of Wolf’s, but what proof have you that she has any connection with the Ministry of Foreign Affairs?”
“I have obtained proof—absolute proof,” he answered.
“In what manner?”
“By inquiries I made in Berlin. She is well known in the Wilhelmstrasse. She was compelled to fly from Germany because it leaked out that she was a French spy.”
“Cannot you give me any further explanation?” I urged. “I am much interested, as she was once my intimate friend.”
“Yes,” interposed the Ambassador, “unfortunately so. It was once rumoured, Ingram, that you actually intended to marry her.”
“Or rather,” observed Kaye, “she intended, for her own purposes, to marry Mr Ingram, I think.”
I pursed my lips, but made no response. My reflections at that moment were bitter enough without these observations from my friends.