Take one thing alone, and it was an aspect of the case that particularly struck me. Supposing diplomatic relations became strained between us and Germany--and I firmly believed, as you know, that sooner or later they would; supposing mobilisation was ordered--a secret one; suppose any of the hundred and one things which would be bound to form a prelude to a European war--and which at all costs must be kept secret--had occurred; think of the incalculable danger a clever woman in her position might have been, however discreet her husband was. And, my dear old boy, you know Ginger! Supposing the Expeditionary Force were on the point of embarkation. A wife might guess their port of departure and arrival by an artless question or two as to where her husband on the Staff had motored to that day. But why go on? You see what I mean. Only to me, at that time--and now I might almost say that I am glad events have justified me--it appealed even more than it would have, say, to you. For I was so convinced of the danger that threatened us. But what was I to do? It was only my word against hers. Tell Ginger? The idea made even me laugh. Tell the generals and the diplomatists? They didn't want to kiss _my_ hand. Tell some big bug in the Secret Service? Yes--that anyway; but she was such a devilish clever woman, that I had but little faith in such a simple remedy, especially as most of them patronised her dinners themselves. Still, that was the only thing to be done--that, and to keep a look-out myself, for I was tolerably certain she did not suspect me. Why should she? And so in due course I found myself sitting next her at dinner as the _Astoria_ started her journey across the water. * * * * * I am coming to the climax of the drama, old man; I shall not bore you much longer. But before I actually give you the details of what occurred on that ill-fated vessel's last trip, I want to make sure that you realise the state of mind I was in, and the action that I had decided on. Firstly, I was convinced that my dinner partner--the wife of one of my best friends--was an unscrupulous spy. That the evidence would not have hung a fly in a court of law was not the point; the evidence was my own hearing, which was good enough for me. Secondly, I was convinced that she occupied a position in society which rendered it easy for her to get hold of the most invaluable information in the event of a war between us and Germany. Thirdly, I was convinced that there would be a war between us and Germany. So much for my state of mind; now, for my course of action.