Even as the door opened, they had been speaking, both at the same time and both in French, in itself rather an astonishing phenomenon; but as the bathrobed gentlemen stopped beside them they ceased speaking. They merely clutched each other the tighter and looked at Anthony. "Well?" Anthony Fry said slowly, and his voice was a terrible thing to hear. "Well?" David said faintly. His pretty little friend broke into a torrent of French, of which, unfortunately, neither Anthony nor Johnson Boller could make anything at all. David, with a long, gasping intake of his breath, muttered something to her, and that proving futile, put a gentle hand over her mouth. The girl, looking at Anthony, burst suddenly into loud and hysterical weeping! "For Heaven's sake, shut her up!" gasped the master of the apartment. "You started her--it was the way you looked at her!" David said thickly. "Well, you stop her or I'll wring your neck!" Anthony panted. "You can hear that over half the house." He turned his eye back to the unfortunate and froze her into sudden silence. Shaking, the girl crouched closer to David Prentiss, and Anthony drew breath once more. It was a horrible thing that had happened, of course--this coming of a strange woman into his apartment. It was likely to take a good deal of explaining to the management of the Lasande, too, later on. But he had brought it upon himself, and the realization caused Anthony's white fury to glow. "This--this woman is a friend of yours?" he choked. "One of the--best friends I have!" David faltered. "How does she come to be here?" "I--I sent for her," David confessed. "I telephoned and----" "All right. That's enough," Anthony Fry said, composure returning in some degree. "Can she speak English?" "Not one word." "Positively," the master of the apartment said slowly, "the thing to do is to have you both arrested, David. Don't start like that and don't speak! There is a certain presumption that this woman is some sort of accomplice, David--not much, perhaps, but one strong enough to hold you until both of you had learned a lesson!" David, himself, white to the lips, was beyond words. "Nevertheless," Anthony pursued, only a trifle more gently, "I shall go to no such length, because of the character of the house and the personal reflection such a mess would cast upon myself. Tell the woman to go, David, and then you and I will have a little chat." "But----" David whispered. "Tell her to go this instant!" Anthony thundered. The boy in the oversize bathrobe looked at his girl friend with stricken eyes--looked at Anthony for an instant, and turned away as swiftly. He swallowed, and, lips trembling, addressed the little French girl; and she started from him and threw out her hands in horror, pouring out a torrent of words. David spoke again, however, and she rose, swaying.