"I am going to ask you to help me," she said. "I felt sure from the first that I could rely upon you. May I not be personal just for a little longer? You say your plumes are borrowed ones. Have you any idea of the identity of the ruby you are wearing on your forehead?" "Not the least. My husband never mentions his clients by name—or, at least, very seldom. I took a fancy to this stone as a kind of climax to my costume, and with great reluctance my husband let me have it. Your eyes are telling me strange things, Miss Lyne." "My tongue is going to tell you stranger," Angela whispered. "To think that you should be ignorant of the fact that you are wearing the sacred Blue Stone of Ghan." "The Shan of Koordstan’s Royal gem!" Mrs. Benstein exclaimed. "Oh, I know all about that. There is very little underground political history that I don’t know. Koordstan and the Cardinal Moth and the—the rest of it. Our host to-night would give me something for the stone." "Our host of to-night means to have it," Angela said under her breath. "I see, I see. What an intellect the man has! It was he who persuaded me to come as Queen of the Rubies. For his own ends he got me invited here. He felt pretty sure that my husband would let me have the Blue Stone to wear. I am in danger." "I don’t think you are exactly in danger," Angela said. "Oh, yes, I am. You don’t know everything, I can see. The Shan of Koordstan is here to-night." "He is here with one of his suite called Aben Abdullah, who, by the way, is my beloved one in disguise. He is Harold Denvers, who is aiding the Shan." "A romance, a veritable romance, with danger and difficulties clinging to it like an aroma. So I am to play the part of one of Sir Clement’s puppets! We shall see. Now tell me everything." Angela proceeded to explain that she was going much beyond Harold Denvers’ hurried instructions. But from the first her instinct had told her that she could make a friend of the woman. She concealed nothing, she spoke of the difficult position of the Shan, and what Harold had to gain by a recovery of the sacred jewel. "I’m glad you told me," Mrs. Benstein said slowly. "Very glad. But there is more danger here than you anticipate, danger to me and to all of us. Sir Clement Frobisher is one of the greatest scoundrels on earth; he is cunning into the bargain, a perfect master of trickery and intrigue. Do you know anything of the Cardinal Moth?" Angela shook her head. She was practically ignorant on that point. Mrs. Benstein indicated the nodding, trembling spray of blossom on her breast.