Price made inquiry as to whom we were discussing, but in a few quick sentences I satisfied his curiosity. "I should be very sorry if she ever comes here again," declared Sammy. "I have no wish to meet her. The memory of my poor friend Carrera is far too painful." "You believe, then, that his death was due to her--that she induced him to leave his jacket upon the lawn?" "I make no direct charge, my dear fellow. I only say that she's daughter of one of the most ingenious `crooks' in Europe--a member, if not the actual leader, of one of the cleverest of the international gangs. They are possessed of ample means, and the police are no match for their ingenuity." "You have your opinion, my dear old chap; I have mine," I said, glancing round the room and recollecting vividly how she had stood there and looked upon the white drawn face of the man who had refused to extricate her from her deadly peril. He took up the yellow paper, glanced it over, and put it down again without being able to make anything out of it. I said I would translate it later, and placed it aside, together with the strange letter of appeal. Neither of my companions was very well satisfied, I could see. They wished to know what the mysterious Lucie had written, while I, on my part, was equally determined not to tell them. It was surely not fair to her to divulge what had been meant for Nardini's eye alone; therefore, I intended to keep possession of the letter, and to hand it to her to destroy, should we ever meet again. Now that I recall those hours following the stranger's decease and the English girl's mysterious visit I cannot even now explain why I so suddenly commenced to take an interest in her. She was beautiful, it was true, but man-of-the-world that I was, and a constant wanderer across the face of Europe, I knew dozens of women quite as graceful, if not even more beautiful. Besides, there was the dark stigma upon her which Sammy had alleged, and which, by what I had now discovered, seemed fully borne out. No. I think the mystery of the affair was responsible for my undue interest in her. Sammy, of course, put it down to her personal attractions, but he was decidedly and distinctly in error. She had told me of her perilous position, and of the dead man's refusal to assist her. Therefore it was but natural that I was curious to know how she fared. Again, was she not in some mysterious way acquainted with a secret of my own life? Perhaps it was also that fact which caused me a longing to know the real truth concerning her. There was certainly nothing of the adventuress about her. She was quiet, refined, graceful, neatly dressed, and spoke with easy, well-bred accents that were essentially those of a lady. I do not think my worst enemy has ever declared me to be impressionable where women were concerned, for truth to tell, an incident that had occurred four years before had soured my life, and caused my resolution to ever remain a bachelor.