‘Well—­maybe not.’  Mr. Van Torp turned his sharp eyes elsewhere.  ’You seem to take quite an interest in Madame Cordova, Mr. Logotheti,’ he observed, in an indifferent tone.

’I knew her before she went on the stage, and I think I may call myself a friend of hers.  At all events, I wish to spare her any annoyance from the papers if I can, and if you have any regard for her you will help me, I’m sure.’

‘I have the highest regard for Madame Cordova,’ said Mr. Van Torp, and there was a perceptible change in his tone; ’but after this, I guess the best way I can show it is to keep out of her track.  That’s about all there is to do.  You don’t suppose I’m going to bring an action against that paper, do you?’

‘Hardly!’ Logotheti smiled.

‘Well, then, what do you expect me to do, Mr. Logotheti?’

Again the eyes of the two men met.

‘I’ll tell you,’ answered the Greek.  ’The story about your visit to Miss Donne in New York is perfectly true.’

‘You’re pretty frank,’ observed the American.

’Yes, I am.  Very good.  The man who wrote the letter and the article knows you, and that probably means that you have known him, though you may never have taken any notice of him.  He hates you, for some reason, and means to injure you if he can.  Just take the trouble to find out who he is and suppress him, will you?  If you don’t, he will throw more mud at honest women.  He is probably some underling whose feelings you have hurt, or who has lost money by you, or both.’

‘There’s something in that,’ answered Mr. Van Torp, showing a little more interest.  ’Do you happen to have any of his writing about you?  I’ll look at it.’

Logotheti took a letter and a torn piece of brown paper from his pocket and handed both to his companion.

‘Read the letter, if you like,’ he said.  ’The handwriting seems to be the same as that on the wrapper.’

Mr. Van Torp first compared the address, and then proceeded to read the anonymous letter.  Logotheti watched his face quietly, but it did not change in the least.  When he had finished, he folded the sheet, replaced it in the envelope, and returned it with the bit of paper.

‘Much obliged,’ he said, and he looked out of the window again and was silent.

Logotheti leaned back in his chair as he put the papers into his pocket again, and presently, as Mr. Van Torp did not seem inclined to say anything more, he rose to go.  The American did not move, and still looked out of the window.

‘You originally belonged to the East, Mr. Logotheti, didn’t you?’ he asked suddenly.

‘Yes.  I’m a Greek and a Turkish subject.’

‘Do you happen to know the Patriarch of Constantinople?’

Logotheti stared in surprise, taken off his guard for once.

‘Very well indeed,’ he answered after an instant.  ‘He is my uncle.’

‘Why, now, that’s quite interesting!’ observed Mr. Van Torp, rising deliberately and thrusting his hands into his pockets.