Carl Lohman, however, was different. His profession had taught him to observe. So it was natural that he, noticing the strained attitude of the girl, should give more than a casual glance. Her handkerchief had fallen at her feet and he stooped down to restore it. His action elicited the slightest notice from her, so he ventured to remark: “I beg your pardon, Miss, but I believe this is yours.” At this, the girl slightly turned her head to see who had spoken to her. Carl noticed, then, the strange look in her eyes. The fixed stare in them seemed to be seeking something beyond the vision of mortal ken. What dream, what strange meditation had so rudely been broken into? Mechanically she took one hand from the rail and accepted the dainty square of lace which Carl extended to her. A bow, so slight as to be scarcely perceptible was her only reply. This was but the outward show. Inwardly she felt relieved to some extent. A glance told her that this man, with his intellectual countenance and commanding presence, was no ordinary flirt. Then, without a word, she walked away. Carl, believing that the handkerchief had been dropped with a purpose and curious to know more about the fascinating girl, hurried to her side and endeavored to start a conversation. “Rather a warm day, is it not?” No answer being given he continued: “Really tropical for this time of year.” Again no response. Carl realized that he had been mistaken. She had not intended to start a flirtation. He looked at her closely. Yes, that was it. She was nervous and trembling as from some all-powerful emotion. He would help her if he could. “Madam, you are ill. May I be of some assistance?” and he extended his arm for support. “Thank you, but I am all right,” was the rather testy retort. “You are a stranger here, are you not?” The girl looked at him carefully, and hesitatingly inquired, “Why do you ask? Simply because I did not reply to your questions?” “No, not that,” came from Carl; then, “Our American girls, or rather I should say, New York girls, resent being addressed by a stranger, even though he should offer aid when needed.” “Aid was not and is not now required. And to answer your questions, I am a stranger here,” came swiftly. “So I thought,” said he, flicking the ashes from his cigarette. “What made you think so?” parried the other, looking at him cautiously from under her heavy lashes. “Oh, because. Well, you see women of your type and eyes are strange here. I have lived here long enough to learn that.” “Strange?” she asked, with a forced smile and shrugging shoulders. “Yes. Beautifully strange.” “Do you really think so?” She was beginning to feel at ease. “Yes. And as for being a stranger, I would say you are a European and have not been in this country very long. At any rate the fads of the moment have had no effect upon your taste.” “Thank you,” she returned with a smile. “Just here on a visit, if I dare ask?”