blind goddess had always been very kind to Mr. Anisty. He felt that here
again she was favoring him. Maitland he had eliminated from this girl's
life; Maitland had failed to keep his engagement, and so would never again
be called upon to play the part of burglar with her interest for incentive
and guerdon. Anisty himself could take up where Maitland had left off.
Easily enough. The difficulties were insignificant: he had only to play
up to Maitland's standard for a while, to be Maitland with all that
gentleman's advantages, educational and social, then gradually drop back to
his own level and be himself, Dan Anisty, "Handsome Dan," the professional,
the fit mate for the girl....

What was she saying?

"But you have lunched already!" with an appealing pout.

"Indeed, no!" he protested earnestly. "I was early--conceive my
eagerness!--and by ill chance a friend of mine insisted upon lunching with
me. I had only a cup of coffee and a roll." He motioned to the waiter,
calling him "Waiter!" rather than "_Garcon!_"----intuitively understanding
that Maitland would never have aired his French in a public place, and that
he could not afford the least slip before a woman as keen as this.

"Lay a clean cloth and bring the bill of fare," he demanded, tempering his
lordly instincts and adding the "please" that men of Maitland's stamp use
to inferiors.

"A friend!" tardily echoed the girl when the servant was gone.

He laughed lightly, determined to be frank. "A detective, in point of
fact," said he. And enjoyed her surprise.