"The deuce!"

Miss Erith smiled. She was one of those girls who always look as
though they had not been long out of a bathtub. She had hazel eyes,
a winsome smile, and hair like warm gold. Her figure was youthfully
straight and supple--But that would not interest an engaged man.

The D. C. glanced at her inquiringly.

"Surely, surely," he muttered, "hum--hum!--" and tried to fix his
mind on the letter.

In fact, she was one of those girls who unintentionally and
innocently render masculine minds uneasy through some delicate,
indefinable attraction which defies analysis.

"Surely," murmured the D. C., "surely! Hum--hum!"

A subtle freshness like the breath of spring in a young orchard
seemed to linger about her. She was exquisitely fashioned to trouble
men, but she didn't wish to do such a--

Vaux, who was in love with another girl, took another uneasy look at
her, sideways, then picked up his unlighted cigar and browsed upon
it.

"Yes," he said nervously, "this is one of those accursed
code-ciphers. They always route them through to me. Why don't they
notify the five--"