"Indeed? It is rather difficult to see here in this poor light, but something should be done about your face. As a plastic surgeon, I would recommend that you----" "Permit an operation?" Pierre interrupted. "Young man, modern surgery cannot do anything for my case." "I disagree with you. Surely you would be willing to give me a chance? This must be horrible, going about frightening people. Or do you enjoy nearly scaring young women to death? My fiancée is still trembling!" Carl removed a handkerchief from his pocket. "Here, Ruth, stop crying, and use this. The boogy man isn't going to get you. What am I going to marry anyway, a cry-baby?" "I'm not crying!" she protested indignantly. "It was just the sudden shock of--well, you and I walking along, and then suddenly to----" She turned to Pierre, but did not look directly into his face. "Really I am sorry if I offended you." "Oh, no, no; it is I who should apologize." Pierre's voice trembled with gratitude. "You are very kind--both of you. I was quite careless tonight. Usually I am more thoughtful of people. You see it is not pleasant to----" He was looking at her throat. If this young man would listen! But no, it was impossible. No one would believe the story of the diamond pendant. Pierre said stiffly: "I really thank you for your kindness, and I am sorry if I have spoiled your evening. Good night!" He turned and started to hurry away. "Oh, but wait a minute," Carl called to him. "I really meant what I said about your face. I think I can do something for you. Won't you take my card and call at my office? At least you can tell me what caused this awful affliction." Pierre quietly accepted the card that was handed to him. He thrust it quickly into the pocket of his vest. Doctor Fielding noticed that the man's hands were as hideous as his face. "You think you would like to know what afflicted me?" Pierre said with a trace of bitterness. "I wonder if you would believe me if I told you." "I would have to," Carl answered. Pierre waited a moment before he said abruptly: "I see you have been to the Countess Moonard's party. Do you know her well?" "As well as most people know the mysterious Countess Donella Moonard," Carl laughed. "Does anyone really know her? Surely you are not acquainted with the Countess?" Pierre did not answer his question, but said directly: "Young man, I will accept the invitation to call at your office. I never go about in the daylight, but if you would be there sometime in the----" "Make it tomorrow evening. I'll be there until midnight," Carl said quickly. "Very well, but I do not come because I think that you can do anything for me." He looked at Ruth again. Self-consciously she put her hands to her throat. Pierre added significantly: "Perhaps I may be able to help _you_. If there are no stars or moonlight, I will call on you." "I don't understand. What does the absence of stars and moonlight have to do with your calling on me?"