He too, when she had disappeared, called a carriage. As she talked she made weak little gestures with her hands, and she thrust her face forward from her bent shoulders; and she peered sometimes at Ann Veronica and sometimes at a photograph of the Axenstrasse, near Fluelen, that hung upon the wall. I was reduced to 170 a fool, for there were many pretty women from all walks of life in that teeming city. This suggestion being approved, was instantly acted upon, and the thief-taker, accompanied by a body of the grenadiers, rode forward. We stepped from the Embassy into the motor—and oh! I thought that he was dead. .
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