"I think, Herr Paul," she said, "that if it had not been for the little
girl in Frankfort, we might have arranged this--eh?"
I shook my head.
"Never!" I answered. "But if it had not been for her--"
"Well?"
"Madame knows," I answered, bowing over her bejewelled fingers. "Auf
wiedersehen!"
She let me go then, and glad enough I was to get away from the atmosphere
of cheap scent and Madame's stealthy advances. I realized, of course,
that the whole affair was a trap, bred of this woman's suspicions of me.
Nevertheless, I scarcely dared to hope that they were finally allayed. I
told Guest about my afternoon's adventure, and he treated it very
seriously indeed.
"She is one of the most dangerous women we could possibly have to deal
with," he told me. "I have known of her all my life. She was in Paris
twelve years ago, and she has twice brought Germany and France to the
brink of war. She trusts or mistrusts wholly by instinct, and I have
heard her boast that she is never mistaken. You have scored this time;
but she won't let you alone.
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