Chartrand was possibly forty-five, his wife thirty-eight or forty and
exceedingly good-looking. There was, of course, no record kept of their
visitors, nor did the house know who they were entertaining the previous
evening. He was entirely sure, however, that the Chartrands were above
suspicion. Mrs. Chartrand was a blonde, petite and slender; Chartrand
was tall and rather stout, with red hair, and a scar across his
forehead. As for the tall, slender woman who left the Collingwood at
three in the morning, he did not recognize her from the description; he
would, however, investigate at once.

That it might be Madeline Spencer, now that her presence in Washington
was declared, Harleston thought possible. "Slender, twenty-eight, walks
as though the ground were hers," the telephone operator had said. He
would get the photograph from Carpenter and let Miss Williams see it. If
she recognized it as Spencer, much would be explained.

He stopped a moment at the Club, then went on to the State Department.
As he turned the corner near the Secretary's private elevator, the
Secretary himself was on the point of embarking and he waited.

"You want to see me?" he asked.

"Just a moment, Mr. Secretary, since you're here," Harleston responded.
"I came particularly to see Carpenter. There has been a plenty doing in
that matter, but nothing worthy of report to you--except one thing.
Madeline Spencer is in town."

"The devil she is!" exclaimed the Secretary.

"And as beautiful, as fascinating, as sinuous, and as young as ever."