The dinner table was large, and arranged with that wonderful simplicity which Mrs. Hastings had adopted as the keynote of her New York parties. She had taken, in fact, simplicity under her wing and made a new thing of it. There were more flowers than silver, and cut glass than heavy plate. There seemed to be an almost ostentatious desire to conceal the fact that Mr. Hastings had robbed the American public of a good many million dollars. "Of course," Pamela declared, as they took their places, and she nodded a greeting to some friends around the table, "fate is throwing us together in the most unaccountable manner." "I accept its vagaries with resignation," Lutchester replied. "Besides, it is quite time we met again. You promised to show me New York, and I haven't seen you for days." "I don't even remember the promise," Pamela laughed, "but in any case I have changed my mind. I am not sure that you are the nice, simple-minded person you profess to be. I begin to have doubts about you." "Interest grows with mystery," Lutchester remarked complacently. "Let us hope that I am promoted in your mind." "Well, I am not at all sure. Of course, I am not an Englishman, so it is of no particular interest to me, but if you really came over here on important affairs, I am not sure that I approve of your playing golf the day after your arrival." "That, perhaps, was thoughtless," he admitted, "but one gets so short of exercise on board ship." "Of course," Pamela observed tentatively, "I'd forgive you even now if you'd only be a little more frank with me." "I am prepared to be candour itself," he assured her. "Tell me," she begged, "the whole extent of your mission in America?" He glanced around. "If we were alone," he replied, "I might court indiscretion so far as to tell you." "Then we will leave the answer to that question until after dinner," she said. She talked to her left-hand neighbour for a few moments, and Lutchester followed suit. They turned to one another again, however, at the first opportunity. "I have conceived," she told him, "a great admiration for Mr. Oscar Fischer." "A very able man," Lutchester agreed. "He is not only that," Pamela continued, "but he is a man with large principles and great ideas." "Principles!" Lutchester murmured. "Of course, you don't like him," Pamela went on, "and I don't wonder at it. He is thoroughly German, isn't he?" "Almost prejudiced, I'm afraid," Lutchester assented. "Don't be silly," Pamela protested. "Why, he's German by birth, and although you English people are much too pig-headed to see any good in an enemy, I think you must admit that the way they all hang together-- Germans, I mean, all over the world--is perfectly wonderful." "There have been a few remarks of the same sort," Lutchester reminded her, "about the inhabitants of the British Empire--Canadians, Australians, New Zealanders, for instance."