"I can't very well do that, madam. You see, we are making extensive
repairs about the place and you are proving to be a serious obstacle.
I cannot grant your request. It will grieve me enormously if I am
compelled to smoke you out but I fear--"

"Smoke me out!"

"Perhaps with sulphur," I went on resolutely. "It is said to be very
effective."

"Surely you will not do anything so horrid."

"Only as a last resort. First, we shall storm the east wing. Failing
in that we shall rely on smoke. You will admit that you have no right
to poach on my preserves."

"None whatever," she said, rather plaintively.

I can't remember having heard a sweeter voice than hers. Of course,
by this time, I was thoroughly convinced that she was a lady,--a
cultured, high-bred lady,--and an American. I was too densely enveloped
by the fogginess of my own senses at this time, however, to take in
this extraordinary feature of the case. Later on, in the seclusion of
my study, the full force of it struck me and I marvelled.

That plaintive note in her voice served its purpose. My firmness seemed
to dissolve, even as I sought to reinforce it by an injection of
harshness into my own manner of speech.

"Then you should be willing to vacate my premises er--or--"here is