At the other end of this room the game of bridge was still in progress. Ray was winning, as usual, and amusing the men with her wit and vivaciousness. Mr. Steell had glanced over in their direction several times, and he saw enough to convince him that the attentions of the fencing master were unwelcome to their hostess. Had he caught Helen's eye, had she made the slightest sign that she was being annoyed, he would have instantly left the game and gone over to the window, if only to break up the tete-a-tete, but she did not once look up. Suddenly he remembered what had been suggested on the boat. It was an idea. Ray at that moment got up to get some tea, and, profiting by the opportunity, the lawyer leaned over and whispered: "Say, Dick, you see that chap over there." The young man looked up. "Who--the signor?" "Yes. What do you know about him?" "Nothing good--although nothing very bad for that matter. He's a dark horse--keeps pretty much to himself. He's well known in the gay resorts, in the gambling houses and where they play the ponies." "What's his reputation?" "He's known as a liberal spender. He's always flashing big rolls of money----" "Where does he get it--not from the fencing school?" "No--that's only a blind." The lawyer lowered his voice. "Dick, my boy, that fellow will bear watching, and you're the man to do it." "You want him shadowed?" "Yes--find out where he goes, who he knows. My opinion is that he belongs to an international band of crooks--possibly counterfeiters, smugglers, or blackmailers. If you land him behind the bars you'll deserve well of your country." Dick glanced once or twice in the direction of the object of their conversation, who, quite unconscious of their scrutiny, was still talking earnestly to Helen. The young man smiled, his chest expanded with satisfaction, and grimly he said: "Leave him to me." Quite unconscious of the attention he attracted, the Italian turned to Helen. "You miss your husband very much?" "Yes--terribly." "It must be lonely for you." "It is," she sighed. "Yet you have your sister." "Can a sister replace a husband?" He gave a low, musical laugh. "No--not a sister. A lover is preferable." Quickly she retorted: "My husband is my lover---my lover is my husband." He laughed, as he said: "It sounds very pretty, but you must admit that it is rather banal." "In what way?" He flecked the ash from his cigar. "You are too pretty, too charming a woman to be commonplace. Really it spoils you----" Ignoring his compliments, she persisted. "Do you mean I am commonplace because I call Kenneth my lover. What other lover should I or any other woman happily married have? I am faithful to him--he is loyal to me." He gave a little mocking laugh, and was silent. How she hated him for that laugh! After a pause he said quietly and suggestively: "I am sure you are faithful to him----"