Clephane cried. "I fancy I can explain. You know I saw you at
the cab. Well, when they released me, I concluded I'd give them
something to think about, and I remarked that Mr. Harleston, of the
United States Diplomatic Service, had stopped at the cab, looked inside,
and then started the horse out Massachusetts Avenue. I thought I had
told you."
"You didn't tell me, but it's very plain now. Madeline Spencer inferred
the rest and instructed them how to act. And they came very close to
turning the trick."
"You mean to getting the letter?" she cried.
He nodded. "I had gone to bed, when something told me to take
precautions; I carried the letter across the corridor and gave it to a
friend to keep for me until morning. A short time after, the three men
called."
"Good Heavens!" she breathed. "What if they had gotten the letter."
"Unless they knew the key-word, they wouldn't have been any better off
than are we--I mean than is the United States."
"I'm France, am I?" she smiled.
"For only this once--and not for long, I trust," he replied.
"Amen!" she exclaimed, "Also for ever more. I'll be so relieved to be
out of it and back to my normal ways that I gladly promise never to try
it again. I'm committed to seeing this affair through and to aiding the
French Embassy in whatever way I can, both because I must keep faith
with Madame Durrand, and because my inexperience and credulity lost it
the letter.
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