inclosed the clipping from the newspaper, but added a choice and
caustic opinion of the efficiency of the Brussels police. He did not
allude specifically to Courant, the duke, or to the queer beginning
of the prince's campaign.

Early in the afternoon Mrs. Garrison sent to inquire as to his
wound. In reply he calmly prepared for an appearance in person. Turk
accompanied him, about four o'clock, in a cab to the house in Avenue
Louise. There were guests, and Phil was forced to endure a rather
effusive series of feminine exclamations and several polite
expressions from men who sincerely believed they could have done
better had they been in his place. Mrs. Garrison was a trifle
distant at first, but as she saw Quentin elevated to the pedestal of
a god for feminine worship she thawed diplomatically, and, with rare
tact, assumed a sort of proprietorship. Dorothy remained in the
background, but he caught anxious glances at his arm, and, once or
twice, a serious contemplation of his half-turned face.

"I'll let her think the fellow was one of the diamond robbers for
the present," thought he. "She wouldn't believe me if I told her he
was in the employ of the prince, and the chances are she'd ruin
everything by writing to him about it."

When at last he found the opportunity to speak with her alone he
asked how she had slept.

"Not at all, not a wink, not a blink. I imagined I heard robbers in
every part of the house. Are you speaking the truth when you tell
all these people it is a mere scratch? I am sure it is much worse,
and I want you to tell me the truth," she said, earnestly.