As he opened the door, the telephone rang.  He took up the receiver.

“Hello!” he said.

“Is that you, Mr. Harleston?” came a soft voice.

“It is Madame X!” he smiled.

“Still Madame X?” she inflected.

“Only to one person.”

“And to her no longer,” she returned.  “What are you doing?”

“Thinking about coming down to dine with you.”

“Just what I was about to ask of you.  Come at seven—­to my apartment.  I have something important to discuss.”

“So have I,” he replied.  “I’ll be along in an hour, or sooner if you want me.”

“I want you, Mr. Harleston,” she laughed, “but I can wait an hour, I suppose.”

“Which may mean much or little,” he replied.

“Just so.—­You may try your diplomatic methods on solving the problem.”

“My methods or my mind?” he asked.

“Your mental methods,” she replied.

“I pass!” he exclaimed.  “You may explain at dinner.”

“Meanwhile, I recommend you to your diplomatic mind.”

“Until dinner?”

“Certainly—­and forever after, Mr. Harleston, be an ordinary man with me, please.”

“Do you fancy that a seeing man can be just an ordinary man when you are with him?” he asked.

“I’m not required to fancy you what you’re not,” she returned.

“In other words, I’m not a seeing man?”

“Not especially, sir.—­And there’s another problem, for your diplomacy. A bientot, Monsieur Harleston.”

He telephoned to the Club for a taxi to be at the door at a quarter to seven; then dressed leisurely and descended.

“Any developments?” he inquired of Miss Williams.

“None,” she replied.  “Ripples hasn’t come down yet.”

“All right,” said he.  “Tell me in the morning—­you’re on duty then?”

She answered by a nod, the flash was calling her, and he passed on toward the door—­just as the elevator shot down and Madeline Spencer stepped out.

“How do you do, Mr. Harleston?” said she, with a broad smile.

“Hello, Mrs. Spencer!  I’m glad to see you,” he returned.  “If you’re bound for the Chateau or downtown, won’t you let me take you in my car?  It’s at the door.”

“If you think you dare to risk your reputation, I’ll be glad to accept,” she replied.

“Is it a risk?” he asked.

“That is for you to judge,” as he put her in.

“The Chateau?” he inquired;—­and when she nodded he leaned forward and gave the order.

“I was surprised to see you—­” he began.

“Why pretend you were surprised to see me?” she laughed.  “You were not; nor am I to see you.  We are too old foes to pretend as to the non-essentials—­when each knows them.  The cards are on the table, Guy, play them open.”

“How many cards are on the table?” he asked.

“All of mine.”