resignation.

"Hill--that means a mountain," she commented. "A mountain of good
luck for me--h'm? And that B--what is that for?"

"My middle name," said Billy patiently, as they reached the door the
Arab doorman was holding open for them.

Absently she laughed. Her dark eyes were sparkling at the vision of
the safe and shining hotel, the dear familiar luxury, the sounds and
sights of her lost Continental life. A few late arrivals from some
dance gave a touch of animation to the wide rooms, and Fritzi's eyes
clung delightedly to the group.

"God, how happy I am!" she sighed.

Billy was busy avoiding the clerk's knowing scrutiny. It was the
same clerk he had coerced with real cigars to enlighten him
concerning Arlee Beecher, and he felt that that clerk was thinking
things about him now, mistaken and misguided things, about his
predilections for the ladies. Philosophically he wondered where they
had better try after this.

But he underestimated the battery of Fritzi's charms, or else the
serene assurance of her manner.

"My letters--letters for Baroff," she demanded of the clerk. "None
yet. Then my room, please.... But I sent a wire from Alexandria.
That stupid maid," she turned to explain to Billy, her air the last
stand of outraged patience. "She is at the train looking for that
luggage she lost," she added to the clerk, and thereupon she
proceeded to arrange for the arrival of the fictitious maid whom
Billy heard himself agreeing to go back and fetch if she did not
turn up soon, and to engage a room for herself--a much nicer room
than Billy himself was occupying--then handed over Billy's
sovereigns and turned happily away jingling the huge key of her
room.

"It is a miracle!" she cried again, exultant triumph in every pretty
line of her. "My heart dances, my blood is singing--Oh, if I were on
the stage now, the music crashing, the lights upon me, the house
packed! I would enchant them! I would dance myself mad.... Ah, what
you say now--shall we have a little bottle of champagne to drink to
our better acquaintance, Mr. Billy?"

"Not this evening," said the unemotional young man. "You are going
to sit down at this desk and draw me those plans of the palace."

Petulantly she shrugged at her rescuer. "How stupid--to-morrow you
may not have that chance for the champagne," she observed. "You
think of nothing but to go back and get killed, then? And I must
help you? Very well. Here, I will draw it for you and I w