She put out a hand, as though to ward off a blow, and her face flushed, an instant.

“Armand, my dear——­” she began.

I turned my back and walked toward the window.

Then, there came the rustle of silk behind me—­a soft arm was flung about my neck, and a tear-choked voice exclaimed: 

“Haven’t you one kind word for me, dear?”

I reached up and put her arm sharply aside.

“It seems to me, madame, there has been enough of this nonsense,” I said.  “There is no gallery here to play to, as you had in the Hanging Garden.”

She studied my face a moment—­drawing her tiny lace handkerchief nervously from hand to hand.

“I must ask you to leave my office immediately,” I went on.  “If you decline, I shall leave and not return until you have gone.”

She slowly drew herself up, and stepped back.

“And this is your last word to your wife?” she asked.

“It is my last word to you, Mrs. Spencer,” I said curtly.  “Are you going—­or shall I?”

She swept me a bit of a courtesy, smiling the while.

“I am going, my dear Armand, I am going—­but it is only au revoir.”

I bowed stiffly, and motioned to Moore to escort her.

He swung open the door—­then stopped short.  Just entering the ante-room, from the corridor, were the King, the Princess Royal, and the American Ambassador.

Instantly, Mrs. Spencer drew back, and gave me a mocking smile.

“I’ve changed my mind again, dear,” she said.  “I’ll make that trade of motives, now.”

XVIII

ANOTHER ACT IN THE PLAY

I hastened to the door, saluted the King, and greeted the Princess and Courtney.

“I am honored over much,” I said—­then watched their actions, as they saw Mrs. Spencer.

Frederick stopped short, frowned, then turned to me interrogatingly.  Courtney raised his eyebrows, bowed to Mrs. Spencer, and, then, gave me a quizzical smile.  Dehra flouted her enemy with one of those deliberately ignoring stares; then, she smiled at me, and went over and sat down at my desk.

Meanwhile, Mrs. Spencer stood near the table; one hand resting on it, the other holding up her gown.  The attitude was most becoming and effective—­and she knew it.  So far as her bearing showed, the situation was the most natural imaginable.  And, chancing to catch my eye, she actually gave me her most fetching smile.

She got a stare in answer, and I turned to the King.

“I have told Your Majesty of a Mrs. Spencer, who claims to be my wife,” I said.  “She has sought an audience with the Governor of Dornlitz, and demanded to know why orders have been issued that she be refused exit from the city.  I offered to explain, if she, on her part, would disclose her reasons for coming to Valeria.  She refused, and was about to depart, when, seeing Your Majesty, she suddenly changed her mind and agreed to bargain.  Have we your permission to proceed?”