she had no idea that it might be considered ostentatious in travelling. It
was convenient as well as pretty, which was all she thought of; nor did
she notice that several persons grouped near the desks looked at her, and
at the bag, which was edged with diamonds and sapphires.

A diamond or two, and a sapphire or two, sparkled and gleamed on her
fingers as she wrote; but except for her rings and a small, plain brooch,
she had no jewellery which was meant to show. Under the black chiffon of
her blouse, however, there was a glimmer of pearls which she wore night
and day for safety.

"Mrs. A. V. May," she wrote, then paused before giving herself a
habitation. Everybody else on the page was placed as well as named. London
was as good a background as any for an unknown Mrs. May, so she provided
herself with it, and then, moving her arm abruptly, her gold bag fell on
the floor. Naturally, a man who had been leaning on the counter, looking
at Angela, sprang to pick it up. But another man was before him. Pulling
off a wide-brimmed gray hat which had been pushed to the back of his head,
he held out the gold bag a little awkwardly.

"I guess you dropped this, lady," he said.

Angela was on the point of laughing. She was used to dropping her bag a
dozen times a day, and having some one pick it up for her, but it had been
funny to see it snapped away by this tall, oddly clad fellow, from under
the dapper gentleman's rather sharp nose. Of course, she did not laugh,
but smiled gratefully instead, and she could not help staring a little at
the retriever of her lost property. So, also, did the other and smaller
man stare. This person was well dressed, and had a slight, pointed
moustache, like a German officer's.