"It's so amusing," she smiled, ignoring the question. "You'll enjoy it. And it isn't all fleet and admiral. There's happiness, and romance, and whispering on the stairs. At night, when the lights are all blazing, and the band is playing waltzes in the casino, and somebody is giving a dinner in the grill-room, and the girls flit about in the shadows looking too sweet for words--well, Baldpate Inn is a rather entrancing spot. I remember those nights very often now." Mr. Magee leaned closer. The flicker of the firelight on her delicate face, he decided, was an excellent effect. "I can well believe you do remember them," he said. "And it's no effort at all to me to picture you as one of those who flitted through the shadows--too sweet for words. I can see you the heroine of whispering scenes on the stair. I can see you walking with a dazzled happy man on the mountain in the moonlight. Many men have loved you." "Are you reading my palm?" she asked, laughing. "No--your face," answered Mr. Magee. "Many men have loved you, for very few men are blind. I am sorry I was not the man on the stair, or on the mountain in the moonlight. Who knows--I might have been the favored one for my single summer of joy." "The autumn always came," smiled the girl. "It would never have come for me," he answered. "Won't you believe me when I say that I have no part in this strange drama that is going on at Baldpate? Won't you credit it when I say that I have no idea why you and the professor and Mr. Bland are here--nor why the Mayor of Reuton has the fifth key? Won't you tell me what it all means?" "I mustn't," she replied, shaking her head. "I can trust no one--not even you. I mustn't believe that you don't know--it's preposterous. I must say over and over--even he is simply--will you pardon me--flirting, trying to learn what he can learn. I must." "You can't even tell me why you wept in the station?" "For a simple silly reason. I was afraid. I had taken up a task too big for me by far--taken it up bravely when I was out in the sunlight of Reuton. But when I saw Upper Asquewan Falls, and the dark came, and that dingy station swallowed me up, something gave way inside me and I felt I was going to fail. So--I cried. A woman's way." "If I were only permitted to help--" Mr. Magee pleaded. "No--I must go forward alone. I can trust no one, now. Perhaps things will change. I hope they will." "Listen," said Mr. Magee. "I am telling you the truth. Perhaps you read a novel called _The Lost Limousine_." He was resolved to claim its authorship, tell her of his real purpose in coming to Baldpate, and urge her to confide in him regarding the odd happenings at the inn.