The young man looked at her, and at Nikasti, who out in the corridor was holding his hat and cane. Then he chuckled. "And they say that things don't happen in New York!" he murmured, as he turned away. CHAPTER XVI An elderly New Yorker, a man of fashion, renowned for his social perceptions, pressed his companion's arm at the entrance to Central Park and pointed to Pamela. "There goes a typical New York girl," he said, "and the best-looking I've seen for many a long day. You can go all round Europe, Freddie, and not see a girl with a face and figure like that. She had that frank way, too, of looking you in the eyes." "I know," the other assented. "Gibson's girls all had it. Kind of look which seems to say--'I know you find me nice and I don't mind. I wonder whether you're nice, too.'" Pamela strolled along the park with Fischer by her side. She wore a tailor-made costume of black and white tweed, and a smart hat, in which yellow seemed the predominating colour. Her shoes, her gloves, the little tie about her throat, were all the last word in the simple elegance of suitability. Fischer walked by her side--a powerful, determined figure in a carefully-pressed blue serge suit and a brown Homburg hat. He wore a rose in his buttonhole, and he carried a cane--both unusual circumstances. After fifty years of strenuous living, Mr. Fischer seemed suddenly to have found a new thing in the world. "This is a pleasant idea of yours, Miss Van Teyl," he said. "I haven't disturbed your morning, I hope?" she asked. "I guess, if you have, it isn't the way you mean," he replied. "You've disturbed a good deal of my time and thoughts lately." "Well, you've had your own way now," she sighed, looking at him out of the corner of her eyes. "I suppose you always get your own way in the end, don't you, Mr. Fischer?" "Generally," he admitted. "I tell you, though, Miss Van Teyl," he went on earnestly, "if you're alluding to last night's affair, I hated the whole business. It was my duty, and the opportunity was there, but with what I have I am satisfied. With reference to that little debt of your brother's--" "Please don't say a word, Mr. Fischer," she interrupted. "You will find that all put right as soon as you get down to Wall Street. Tell me, what have you done with your prize?" Mr. Fischer looked very humble. "Miss Van Teyl," he said, "for certain reasons I am going to tell you the truth. Perhaps it will be the best in the long run. We may even before long be working together. So I start by being honest with you. The pocketbook is by now on its way to Germany." "To Germany?" she exclaimed. "And after all your promises!"