"Yes--it was very pleasant and the doctor was very kind. But I am glad to get back to you, Tommy," she added, gazing at him fondly. "I could weep with joy just to look at that honest face of yours!" Stewart felt his heart skip a beat. "You will make me conceited, if you don't take care, old lady!" he protested. "And surely I've got enough cause for conceit already, with the most beautiful woman in the world sitting across from me, telling me she loves me. Don't blame me if I lose my head a little!" The ardor in his tone brought the color into her cheeks. "You must not look at me like that!" she reproved. "People will think we are on our moon of--our honeymoon," she corrected, hastily. "Instead of having been married four years! I wonder how John and Sallie are getting along? Aren't you just crazy to see the kids!" She choked over her soup, but managed to nod mutely. Then, as Hans removed the plates and disappeared in the direction of the kitchen, he added in a lower tone, "You must allow me the children. I find I can't be happy without them!" "Very well," she agreed, the dimple sparkling. "You have been so kind that it is impossible for me to refuse you anything!" "There is one thing I can't understand. Your English astonishes me. Where did you learn to speak it so perfectly?" "Ah, that is a long story! Perhaps I shall one day tell it to you--if we ever meet again." "We must! I demand that as my reward!" She held up a warning finger as steps sounded along the passage; but it was only the landlady bringing the wine. That good woman was exuberant--a trifle too exuberant, as Stewart's companion told her with a quick glance. The dinner proceeded from course to course. Stewart had never enjoyed a meal more thoroughly. What meal, he asked himself, could possibly be commonplace, shared by such a woman? The landlady presently dispatched Hans to the station to inquire about the train, while she herself did the serving, and the two women ventured to exchange a few words concerning their instructions. Stewart, listening, caught a glimpse of an intricate system of espionage extending to the very heart of Germany. But he asked no questions; indeed, some instinct held him back from wishing to know more. "Spy" is not a pretty word, nor is a spy's work pretty work; he refused to think of it in connection with the lovely girl opposite him. "We shall have the police with us soon," said the landlady, in a low tone. "Hans will run at once to tell them of Madame's arrival." "Why do you keep him?" Stewart asked. "It is by keeping him that I avert suspicion. If there was anything wrong here, the police tell themselves, this spy of theirs would discover it. Knowing him to be a spy, I am on my guard. Besides, he is very stupid. But there--I will leave you. He may be back at any moment."