I reported this to the Captain at once. He was keenly disappointed. Also confessed about taking Ben over, and about the maid and the man named Keith. He blamed me for taking Ben, and also for not hanging around so I could follow the maid when she went out to meet the chaplain.... “However,” he said, “you’ve helped a lot, and I’m going to see about having you transferred, after the General has cleaned up some of his work.” He made me promise to look him up as soon as I got back to Paris. Upon his suggestion I called upon the Madame to say good-by. She welcomed me as usual but rebuked me for bringing “that woman-eating animal to see me.” I told her I was sorry. That I didn’t think he would act like that. “Don’t worry, youngster,” she informed me. “Ada doesn’t give in to any man unless she wants to—and, to be frank with you, there’s only one man in Paris whom I would favor in that way....” “Yes?” “... and he is here at this minute,” she finished, ending with that funny little laugh. “You’re a good joker,” I replied with a smile. “No, I’m not joking, little one,” she insisted. “I know what you think—or, at least, I assume I know. But you have the wrong conception entirely.... I believe in being free and generous and in having a good time with my friends ... but of all the men whom you have met here, there’s not one who can boast of a real conquest here.... You see ... oh, there are many things you can’t understand, youngster.... And now you’re leaving.” She caressed my cheeks with her lips and fingers, and continued, pleasantly and sincerely, “I’ll miss you, cher enfant.... It’s been so nice, having you around.... Promise grandma you’ll be a good boy and stay away from the mademoiselles until you come back to me?” “I promise faithfully,” I told her. She kissed me with a smothering fervor, and as she closed the door behind me, murmured, “Hurry back, youngster, like a good boy!” I forgot to ask her why she wouldn’t let us in last night, when we came back; but I assumed it was on account of Ben.... Well, I did feel sorry for her. She was perfectly able to take care of herself, but sooner or later she’d be caught and then—well, they shot Mata Hari. It didn’t seem that any good could come from killing a woman who was as game, as clever, as altogether interesting as she was.... You see, I loathed having to put up with her caresses and her kisses, but I could understand how a man must feel, if she liked him ... and I couldn’t help liking her and feeling sorry for her.... However, there was a war on: at least, so I’d heard, and to-morrow it was back to the grind for us. CHAPTER 15 THE TWAIN MEET —1— On Saturday afternoon a few days later, the mail from Paris brought me a short note from Captain Winstead to tell me that: