"I don't expect to," she declared.
"Why not?"
"B'cause business is business, no matter what frills yuh pin on it! And I'd rather be eatin' alone wit' yuh in a forty-cent red-ink dump than dinin' on terrapin wit' foreigners!"
Wilsnach was robbed of the necessity of replying to this somewhat embarrassing confession, since the door of their secluded dining-room had been thrown open and they found themselves confronted by Kestner and another man.
This second man stared at Sadie Wimpel with a glance that was openly antagonistic.
"Who is this girl?" he promptly and somewhat belligerently inquired.
"This," said Kestner as he watched Sadie flush up to the little runway of freckles spanning her well-powdered nose, "is Miss Wimpel."
"And who is Miss Wimpel?"
"I can best describe her," continued Kestner, as he eyed the official so newly arrived from Washington, "as the most valuable woman agent in all the Service."
"And she is to dine with us to-night?" the Washington envoy none too affably inquired.
