“But, why do you forbear, my dear?” she said.  “If I am not your wife, why don’t you do something to prove it?”

“What, for example?” I inquired.

She shrugged her shoulders.  “How ingenious you are, Armand!  You would even have me believe that, having decided to deny me, you did not, also, arrange how to proceed when I appeared.”

“My dear Mrs. Spencer, I said, the other night, that you were a great actress; permit me to repeat it.”

“It is very easy to act the truth, Armand,” she answered.

“And your appearance in Dornlitz is, I suppose, in the interest of truth?” I mocked.

She looked at me very steadily, a moment.

“At any rate, you must admit it was well for truth and decency that I did appear.”

“We but waste each other’s time, Mrs. Spencer,” I answered curtly, and nodded to Moore.

But she gave no heed to the Aide’s proffered arm.  She did not even glance at him, but leaned back on the chair, swinging her foot and looking as insolently tantalizing as possible.  It was a very pretty pose.

“I may be very stupid, Armand,” she said, “but, I cannot understand why, if my presence in Dornlitz is so annoying to you, you prevent me leaving it.”

I smiled.  “At last,” said I, “we are coming to the point.”

“As though you hadn’t guessed it from the first,” she laughed.

“Unfortunately, I have not Mrs. Spencer’s keenness of intuition,” I returned.

She glanced over at my desk.

“The Governor of Dornlitz needs none.  Official reports are better than intuition.”

“But not so rapid,” I replied.

She smiled.  “I was looking at the telephone,” she said dryly.

“An admirable medium for unpleasant conversations,” I observed.

“Particularly, between husband and wife, you mean.”

I answered with a shrug.

“And, also, between the city gates and headquarters,” she continued.

“You are pleased to speak in riddles,” I said.

She let herself sink, with sinuous grace, into the chair.

I sighed, with suggestive audibility, and waited.

It was a good deal of a cat and dog business—­and the cat was having all the fun—­and knew it.

I could not well have her dragged from the room; and the other alternative—­to leave, myself—­was not to my taste.  It looked too much like flight.

“I wish you would explain why I am not permitted to leave Dornlitz,” she said.

“Have you been restrained from leaving?” I asked.

“Still pretending ignorance, my dear,” she laughed.  “Well, then, I was refused exit at the North gate this morning; and that, though I was only going for a short drive in the country.”

“Why didn’t you try another gate?” I asked.

“I did—­three others.”

“With similar results?”

“Absolutely.”