interested, and want to see it through."

"If he can be moved, out he goes. No arguments. He can't stay
in this apartment. That's final."

"Exactly why not?" Kitty demanded, rebelliously.

"Because I say so, Kitty."

"Is Stefani Gregor an undesirable?"

"You knew him. What do you say?" countered her godfather, evading
the trap. The innocent child! He smiled inwardly.

Kitty was keen. She sensed an undercurrent, and her first attempt
to touch it had failed. The mere name of Stefani Gregor had not
roused Cutty's astonishment. She was quite positive that the name
was not wholly unfamiliar to her father's friend.

Still, something warned her not to press in this direction. He
would be on the alert. She must wait until he had forgotten the
incident. So she drew up a chair beside the bed and sat down.

Cutty leaned against the footrail, his expression neutral. He
sighed inaudibly. His delightful catnap was over. Stefani Gregor,
Kitty's neighbour, a valet in a fashionable hotel! Stefani Gregor,
who, upon a certain day, had placed the drums of jeopardy in the
palms of a war correspondent known to his familiars as Cutty. And
who was this young man on the bed?