"Yes," he said, "Andy fixed that for me. But she never said a word.
I _parlez-voused_ her, and _verstehen-Sied_ her, and she sighed and
turned her head."

"Did you see the heiress?" St. George asked.

"Not I," mourned Amory, "not to talk with, that is. I happened to be
hanging up in the hall there the afternoon it occurred;" he modestly
explained.

"What luck," St. George commented with genuine envy. "It's a
stunning story. Who is Miss Holland?"

"She's lived there for a year or more with her aunt," said
Chillingworth. "She is a New Yorker and an heiress and a great
beauty--oh, all the properties are there, but they're all we've got.
What do you make of it?" he repeated.

St. George did not answer, and every one else did.

"Mistaken identity," said Little Cawthorne. "Do you remember
Provin's story of the woman whose maid shot a masseuse whom she took
to be her mistress; and the woman forgave the shooting and seemed to
have her arrested chiefly because she had mistaken her for a
masseuse?"

"Too easy, Cawthorne," said Chillingworth.

"The woman is probably an Italian," said the telegraph editor,
"doing one of her Mafia stunts. It's time they left the politicians