is a secret place for delivering a message."

"Not too secret," she answered. "I am Mademoiselle St. Clair."

"You!"

The exclamation was a whispered one. A confusion of thoughts was in his
brain. Already almost unconsciously he had laid the foundations of a
dream fabric, and these were destroyed suddenly, burying him for a
moment in the collapse.

"May I see monsieur unmasked?" she said.

Mechanically he removed the mask, and she looked into his face
earnestly. She gave no sign whether she expected to recognize him, but
it would seem that his face satisfied her, for she undid her mask and
stood before him. She was a woman, and beauty must ever be the keenest
weapon in woman's armory; there was a little glad triumph in her heart
as she realized that this man bowed before her beauty. Barrington was
startled that a mask could hide so much.

"Monsieur has been somewhat misled, it would seem, by his friend who
was witty at my expense and inclined to exaggerate."

"I have been deceived, and I shall punish him for the lie," Barrington
answered.

"I am at a loss to understand the deceit," she answered. "You have a
message for me. I may find some explanation in it."