“I most certainly can not,” was the chief’s unhesitating response.

“In that case I don’t think it would be wise to transfer the investigation of the shooting affair to another man,” said Mr. Grimm emphatically, reverting to his chief’s question.  “I think, on the contrary, we should find out more about Miss Thorne.”

“Precisely,” Campbell agreed.

“Ask all the great capitals about her—­Madrid, Paris and Rome, particularly; then, perhaps, London and Berlin and St. Petersburg.”

Mr. Campbell thoughtfully scribbled the names of the cities on a slip of paper.

“Do you intend to arrest Miss Thorne for the shooting?” he queried.

“I don’t know,” replied Mr. Grimm frankly.  “I don’t know,” he repeated musingly.  “If I do arrest her immediately I may cut off a clue which will lead to the other affair.  I don’t know,” he concluded.

“Use your own judgment, and bear in mind that a man—­a man slammed the door in the maid’s face.”

“I shall not forget him,” Mr. Grimm answered.  “Now I’m going over to talk to Count di Rosini for a while.”

The young man went out, thoughtfully tugging at his gloves.  The Italian ambassador received him with an inquiring uplift of his dark brows.

“I came to make some inquiries in regard to Miss Thorne—­Miss Isabel Thorne,” Mr. Grimm informed him frankly.

The count was surprised, but it didn’t appear in his face.

“As I understand it,” the young man pursued, “you are sponsor for her in Washington?”

The count, evasively diplomatic, born and bred in a school of caution, considered the question from every standpoint.

“It may be that I am so regarded,” he admitted at last.

“May I inquire if the sponsorship is official, personal, social, or all three?” Mr. Grimm continued.

There was silence for a long time.

“I don’t see the trend of your questioning,” said the ambassador finally.  “Miss Thorne is worthy of my protection in every way.”

“Let’s suppose a case,” suggested Mr. Grimm blandly.  “Suppose Miss Thorne had—­had, let us say, shot a man, and he was about to die, would you feel justified in withdrawing that—­that protection, as you call it?”

“Such a thing is preposterous!” exclaimed the ambassador.  “The utter absurdity of such a charge would impel me to offer her every assistance.”

Mr. Grimm nodded.

“And if it were proved to your satisfaction that she did shoot him?” he went on evenly.

The count’s lips were drawn together in a straight line.

“Whom, may I ask,” he inquired frigidly, “are we supposing that Miss Thorne shot?”

“No one, particularly,” Mr. Grimm assured him easily.  “Just suppose that she had shot anybody—­me, say, or Senor Alvarez?”

“I can’t answer a question so ridiculous as that.”

“And suppose we go a little further,” Mr. Grimm insisted pleasantly, “and assume that you knew she had shot some one, say Senor Alvarez, and you could protect her from the consequences, would you?”