unusual occurrences that had disturbed her
ordinarily too peaceful life, she decided to take a walk until it was
time to keep her appointment. Something--force of habit probably--led
her to the shopping district. With still half an hour to kill, she went
into a little specialty shop to examine some knitting bags displayed in
the window.

"Why don't you knit as all the other girls are doing?" was her father's
constant suggestion every time she asserted her desire to be doing
something in the war.

"There's no thrill in knitting," she would answer. "Fix it, Dad, so that
I can go to France as a Red Cross nurse or as an ambulance driver, won't
you? I want some excitement."

Always he had refused to consent to her going, insisting that France in
wartime was no place for an untrained girl.

"If I can't go myself, I certainly am not going to send any knitting,"
she would spiritedly answer, but several times recently the sight of
such charming looking knitting bags had tempted her into almost breaking
her resolution.

Inside the shop she found nothing that appealed to her, and contented
herself with buying some toilet articles. As she made her purchases she
noticed, almost subconsciously, a man standing near, talking with one of
the shopgirls--a middle-aged man with a dark mustache.

"The address, please," said the girl, who had been waiting on her.

"Miss Strong," she answered, giving the number of the apartment house on
Riverside Drive.

She recalled afterward that as she mentioned the number the man standing
there had turned and looked sharply at her, but she thought nothing of
it. Her father's name was well known and he had many acquaintances in
the city. More than likely, she supposed, this man was some friend of
her father who had recognized the name.

She lingered a few moments at some of the other counters, aimlessly
inspecting their offerings, and at last, with ten minutes left to reach
the Ritz, emerged from the store. She was amazed to see the man who had
been inside now standing near the entrance, and something within warned
her that he had been waiting to speak to her. As she attempted to pass
him quickly, he stepped in front of her, blocking her path, but raising
his hat deferentially.

"I beg your pardon, Miss Strong," he said, "may I have a word with you?"

Compelled to halt, she looked at him both appraisingly and resentfully.
There was nothing offensive nor flirtatious in his manner, and he seeme