are hard as
Bessemer armor-plate in business, but oh, how soft the tumble for a new
shade of peroxide."

"Mr. Grimsby" was soon sitting on the velour divan, at a comfortable
distance from possible eavesdroppers at the door. She was putting the
finishing touches to her preparation for the butterfly role. Shirley
felt an unexpected thrill at this little intimacy of their relations:
the rooms were permeated with the most delicate suggestion of a curious
perfume, which was strange to him. Somehow it fitted her personality
so effectually: for despite the physical appeal of her beauty,
now accentuated by the risque costume which she had donned, at the
professional suggestion of Dick Holloway, there was a pervasive
spirituality in the girl's face, her hands, and the tones of her soft
voice.

She turned to smile at him, her dimples playing hide and seek with the
white pearls beneath the unduly scarlet lip.

"Isn't this a ripping good situation for a novel?" she began.

"Yes, too good at present, Miss Marigold. There are too many, important
people to be affected for it ever to be given to the public, for the
identities would all be exposed ruthlessly. Besides, no one would
believe it: it seems too improbable, being real life. It will be more
improbable before we finish the adventure, I suspect. Can I trust your
discretion to keep it secret? You know, I have a deal of skepticism
about the best of women."

Helene reddened under that keen glance, and he saw that he had offended
her.

"I beg your pardon: I know that we shall work it out together, with
absolute mutual trust."

Such an earnest vibrance was in his voice that somehow she was reminded
of another voice: her mind went back to the neglected letter to Jack.
What could have caused her to be so remiss? She would not let herself
dwell on the subject--instead, with a surprising deftness, she caught up
Shirley's own cue, for a staggering question of her own.

"Are you sure that you have absolutely confided in me? Did you start at
the beginning, when you told the story to-day."

"What do you mean?" and Shirley caught the glance sharply.

"Your unusual rapidity of action, Mr. Shirley, for a mere interested
friend! It is queer how wonderfully your mind has connected this work,
and the various accidental happenings, to evolve this clever ruse in
which I am to assist. It doesn't seem so amateurish as you would make
it. You seem mysterious to me."

"Do you think I am th