could see him in a sixty-horse touring-car, with two millionaires and an
English diplomat, brother of an earl, and all on the way to dine with a
countess? If Mary Kramer could see him!... Poor Mary Kramer! Poor little
Mary Kramer!

A man-servant took their coats in Madame de Vaurigard's hall, where
they could hear through the curtains the sound of one or two voices in
cheerful conversation.

Sneyd held up his hand.

"Listen," he said. "Shawly, that isn't Lady Mount-Rhyswicke's voice! She
couldn't be in Reom--always a Rhyswicke Caws'l for Decembah. By Jev, it
is!"

"Nothin' of the kind," said Pedlow. "I know Lady Mount-Rhyswicke as well
as I know you. I started her father in business when he was clerkin'
behind a counter in Liverpool. I give him the money to begin on. 'Make
good,' says I, 'that's all. Make good!' And he done it, too. Educated
his daughter fit fer a princess, married her to Mount-Rhyswicke, and
when he died left her ten million dollars if he left her a cent! I know
Madge Mount-Rhyswicke and that ain't her voice."

A peal of silvery laughter rang from the other side of the curtain.

"They've heard you," said Cooley.

"An' who could help it?" Madame de Vaurigard herself threw back the
curtains. "Who could help hear our great, dear, ole lion? How he roar'!"