does, and directed to prevent its delivery to the French Ambassador.
We've succeeded in preventing, but bungled it over to the United
States--the one country that we shouldn't have aroused. What in the
devil's name ails your assistants, Marston--particularly Crenshaw?"

"To be quite candid," Marston replied, "he had a grouch; he thought that
Sparrow and I flub-dubbed the matter of the cab, and deliberately tried
to lose him when we went to the Collingwood. And when he did come, he
drew his gun on us until he understood."

"What?" she exclaimed.

"He thought that it was a scheme of Sparrow to injure him in your eyes.
It seems that he and Sparrow are jealous of your beautiful eyes."

"What are you talking about?" she demanded. "What have I, or my
beautiful eyes, to do with Crenshaw and Sparrow?"

"What usually happens to the men who are associated with you in any
enterprise: they get daffy over you."

"Because they get daffy over me is no excuse for stupid execution of the
business in hand," she shrugged. "_You_ never have been guilty of
stupidity, Marston."

"Because I've managed never to be a fool about you--however much I have
been tempted to become one."

"Have been, Marston?" she inflected.