"You owe me something."

"What I said was conventional. I'm NOT grateful to you for saving
the sort of life mine is!"

"I was not thinking of your life."

After a moment he said more quietly: "I know what you mean.... Yes,
I am grateful. Our Government ought to know."

"Then tell me, now."

"You know," he said brutally, "I have only your word that you are
what you say you are."

She reddened but replied calmly: "That is true. Let me show you my
credentials."

From her muff she drew a packet, opened it, and laid the contents on
the bedspread under his eyes. Then she walked to the window and
stood there with her back turned looking out at the falling snow.

After a few minutes he called her. She went back to the bedside,
replaced the packet in her muff, and stood waiting in silence.

He lay looking up at her very quietly and his bruised young features
had lost their hard, sullen expression.

"I'd better tell you all I know," he said, "because there is really