rful glances towards the door,
puzzled Phyllis.

"Can you not come nearer to me and talk?" she asked.

"No! You must not speak to me again. You must not let any one,
especially the man himself, know what I have told you. No more now.
Watch for the handkerchief!"

"But what shall I say to him?"

The girl took no notice of her. She was looking in the opposite
direction. She seemed to have edged away as far as possible from her.
Phyllis drew a long breath.

She felt her heart beating with excitement. The place suddenly seemed to
her like part of a nightmare.

And then all was clear again. Fortune was on her side. The secret of
Guy's disappearance was in this room, and a few careless words from the
girl at the next table had told her more than an entire police system
had been able to discover. But why the mystery? What was she to say to
the man when he came? The girl from Vienna was talking to some friends
and toying carelessly with a little morsel of lace which she had drawn
from her bosom. Phyllis watched it with the eyes of a cat. Every now
and then she watched also the door.

The place was much fuller now. Mademoiselle Flossie had arrived with a
small company of friends from Maxim's. The music was playing all the
time. The popping of corks was almost incessant, the volume of sound had
swelled. The laughter and greeting of friends betrayed more abandon than
earlier in the evening. Old acquaintances had been renewed, and new ones
made. Mademoiselle from Vienna was surrounded by a little circle of
admirers. Still she held in her right hand a crumpled up little ball of
lace.

Men passing down the room tried to attract the attention of the
beautiful young English demoiselle who looked out upon the little scene
so indifferently as regarded individuals, and yet with such eager
interest as a whole. No one was bold enough, however, to make a second
effort. Necessity at times gives birth to a swift capacity. Fresh from
her simple country life, Phyllis found herself still able with
effortless serenity to confound the most hardened boulevarders who
paused to ogle her. Her eyes and lips expressed with ease the most
convincing and absolute indifference to their approaches. A man may
sometimes brave anger; he rarely has courage to combat indifference. So
Phyllis held her own and waited.

And at last the handkerchief fell. Phyllis felt her own heart almost
stop beating, as she gazed down the room. A man of medium height, da