Her low, contralto tones, quite impersonal, were yet
delightful; I could have stood there talking burglars with her till
dawn. "Do you wish to come in and make sure that he is not in hiding?"
With a half smile for which I didn't blame her, she moved a step aside.
"Certainly not!" I said firmly, ignoring a nudge from the policeman.
"He left before you came--there was ample time. It is not of the least
consequence, anyhow. Again I beg your pardon." As she inclined her head,
I bowed, and closed the door.
"I trust Mr. Bayne, that you are satisfied at last." This was the St.
Ives manager, and I did not like his tone.
"I am satisfied of several things," I retorted sharply, "but before I
share them with you, will you kindly tell me your name?"
"My name is Ritter," he said with dignity. "I confess I fail to see what
bearing--"
"Call it curiosity," I interrupted. "Doctor, favor me with yours."
The doctor peered at me over his glasses, hesitated, and then revealed
his patronym. It was Swanburger, he informed me.
"But, my dear sir, what on earth--"
"Merely," said I, with conviction, "that this isn't an Allies' night.
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