"Yes, for one of them sends you to my rooms to-day." He had never spoken to her in this way before, and the tone of it found her amazed. Hitherto the man of affairs and the woman of the useful vanities had been speaking; but John Faber had changed all that in an instant. She felt his wide eyes focused upon her with a sudden glance which burned. He had taken a step toward her, and for a moment she feared that some mad impulse would drive him to forget the true circumstance of their meeting, and to suppose another. She felt her heart beat rapidly--a true instinct warned her to act upon the defensive. "I think we were talking of another kind of bogy," she said quickly--"women deserve a new chapter." He laughed a little hardly, and turned upon his heel. "The goose awoke and the Capitol is saved. Well, about this frost?" "Oh, I shall hope for a thaw." "That's what your I.A.L. is doing all the time. Tell them that John Faber wishes them well, and will sell them a hundred thousand rifles any time they are reconsidering the position. Perhaps I shall meet you when I return from Paris. We can put the contract through then." She shook her head, trying to hide the annoyance of the rebuff. "I don't suppose I shall ever see you again," she said. "I'll bet you a thousand dollars you do, either in Paris or Berlin." "Why should I go there?" "Because your little friend Claudine d'Arny will see that you do." "Oh, that was only an acquaintance on the ship. I had forgotten her." "My memory is better. I have been chewing her father's name for twenty years." "Do you know him, then?" It was his turn to laugh--with the silent anger of a man who remembers. "He gave the order for my father to be shot. I don't think I'll forget him." She hardly believed him to be serious. There he stood, smiling softly, one hand deep in his trousers pocket, the other toying with his roses. He had just told her what he would have told no other woman in England, and she thought him a jester. "Is this one of the fables?" "Certainly it is. I am going to Paris to write the moral." She watched his face curiously. "But, surely, if General d'Arny gave any such order, it was in his official capacity." "As I shall give mine--in an official capacity." "Then you have not forgiven him?" "It is for that very purpose I am going to Paris. That and one other." "To sell your guns--I read it in the papers." He smiled--in a kindly way this time. "I'll give you twenty guesses." "But I am hopeless at riddles." "Then I'll solve this one for you. I am going to Paris to give one million dollars to the man who took my mother to America--if I can find him." "I hope you will succeed--and I wish I knew the man."