Monica closed the door softly behind her.

"Why, Monica!" she exclaimed in horror--and her speech was that of the
United States--"what on earth ...?"

"Not a word, Mary, but let me explain...."

"But for land's sake, Monica...."

"Mary, I want you to help...."

"But say, child, a man ... in my bedroom ... at this time o' night...."

"Oh, shucks, Mary! let me talk."

The distress of the woman in bed was so comic that I could scarcely help
laughing. She had dragged the bed-clothes up till only her eyes could be
seen. Her pigtails bobbed about in her emotion.

"Now, Mary dear, listen here. You're a friend of mine. This is Desmond
Okewood, another, a very old and dear friend of mine too. Well, you
know, Mary, this isn't a healthy country these times for an English
officer. That's what Desmond here is. I didn't know he was in Germany. I
don't know a thing about him except what he's told me and that's that
he's in danger and wants me to help him. I met him outside and brought
him right in here, as I know you would want me to, wouldn't you, dear?"

The lady poked her nose over the top of the bed-clothes.

"Present the gentleman properly, Monica!" she said severely.