The officer smiled grimly.

“She does not understand German?”

“Not a word,” lied Stewart, glibly.

“What is her name?”

“Mary.”

“Her maiden name?”

“Mary Agnes Fleming,” answered Stewart, repeating the first name that occurred to him, and thanking his stars the next instant that the officer could scarcely be acquainted with the lesser lights of English fiction.

[Pg 83]

[Pg 83]

“Is that correct?” asked the officer, suddenly turning upon her.

Stewart’s heart gave a leap of fear; but after a stare at the officer, she turned to her companion.

“Was he speaking to me, Tommy?” she asked; and it was only by a heroic effort that Stewart choked back the sudden snort of laughter that rose in his throat.

“Yes,” he managed to answer; “he wants to know your maiden name.”

“Why should he wish to know that?”

“I give it up; but you’d better tell him.”

“My maiden name was Mary Agnes Fleming,” she said, looking at the officer with evident disapprobation. “Though what concern it is of yours I cannot see.”

“What does she say?” demanded the officer, and again Stewart translated literally.

The officer stood staring intently at both of them, till the lady, with a flash of indignation, turned her back.

“Really, Tommy,” she said, over her shoulder, “if you do not at once get rid of this brute, I shall never speak to you again!”

“He is a policeman, dear,” 

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