Criminal Investigation Department of Scotland Yard turned toward
me.

"Do you know who that woman is?"

"Surely," I cried, "she went to school with my sister at Miss
Page's; she came to visit Mrs. Jordan. . . ."

He looked at me steadily.

"She got the data about your sister out of the Back Bay
biographies and she used the accident of Mrs. Jordan's death to
get in with it . . . the rest was all fiction."

"Madame Barras?" I stuttered. "You mean Madame Barras?"

"Madame the Devil," he said. "That's Sunny Suzanne. Used to be
in the Hungarian Follies until the Soviet government of Austria
picked her up to place the imitation English money that its
presses were striking off in Vienna."




IV. The Cambered Foot


I shall not pretend that I knew the man in America or that he was
a friend of my family or that some one had written to me about
him. The plain truth is that I never laid eyes on him until Sir