He thought for himself that when a girl goes in for all of these accomplishments it is because the gods have been otherwise unkind, and that she has to. At the same time he remembered the voice he had heard through the scarcely opened door--the lovely voice of a young English girl--than which in all the world there is nothing half so lovely. And it suddenly occurred to him that there had not been in it the faintest kind or trace of a German accent--that only its childish and sleepy sweetness had struck him first, and then its purity and its youthful and cultivated charm. Yes, truly, the gods had been kind to this young German girl of nineteen, but it would be a little too much to ask of these same gods that they endow her with figure and features commensurate with her other charms and talents. Then he suddenly remembered her profession, and that she was studying still for the dramatic profession. And he knew that this profession naturally required exterior charm of any woman who desired to embrace it. While these ideas and speculations were occupying his mind he heard her on the stairs, and he turned and came forward as she entered the room. She was a slender, straight girl of medium height; and her face was one of those fresh young faces which looked fragrant. And instantly the thought occurred to him that she was the vivid, living incarnation of her own voice, with her lilac-blue eyes and soft white neck, and the full scarlet lips of one of those goddesses who was not very austere. She wore a loosely-belted jacket of tan-coloured covert-cloth, and narrow skirts of the same, and a wide golden-brown hat, and tan spats. The gods had been very, very kind to Miss Girard, for she even adorned her clothes, and that phenomenon is not usual in Great Britain or among German Fräuleins however accomplished and however well born. She said: "I beg your pardon for detaining you so long on the outside door-step. Since the war began my maid and I have been annoyed by strangers telephoning and even coming here to ask silly and impertinent questions. I suppose," she added, disdainfully, "it is because there is so much suspicion of foreigners in England." "I quite understand," he said. "Being German, your neighbors gossip." She shrugged her indifference. "Shall we talk here?" she asked gravely, resting one very white hand on the back of a chair. "You come from General Baron Kurt von Reiter. The ring is a credential beyond dispute." "We can talk anywhere you wish," he said, "but there is little time, and somebody must pack a traveller's satchel for you. Have you a maid?" "She went to London yesterday evening. She was to have returned on the eleven o'clock train last night. I can't understand it." "Are you alone in the house?" "Yes. My cook sleeps out. She does not come until half-past nine. My maid serves my breakfast." "You haven't had any, then?" "No." "Can you fix something for yourself?" "Yes, of course. Shall I do so now?"