had felt; and she—she would not put him off. But instead, he had to judge her. So he stood away, his hands behind his back, one hand locked tight on the other wrist.
"Well," he said, "I'm here; what do you want me to do?"
"You'll do it for me, Gerry?"
"What?"
"Help me to Switzerland."
"Still as Cynthia Gail, of course."
"Yes."
"Then you turn into—whom?"
"The German girl whom they will take into Germany."
"I suppose so. But who is she? Where does she come from? What is her name?"
"I don't know."
"What?"
"She came from Chicago, I suppose."
"You suppose; and you don't know even her name and intend to try to be her!"
"It's possible, Gerry; oh it's possible, truly. You see I don't believe the Germans here in Paris, or those who'll meet me in Switzerland, know who I'm supposed to be."
"What do you think they'll know?"
"That the girl who's here going under the name of Cynthia Gail, and doing the work I'm doing, is really one of themselves and that she'll appear in Lucerne. Those are the essentials; and so far as I've been able to observe the German-spy system—and you see I've been a part of it for a while"
"Yes; I see."
"—it seems pretty well reduced to communicating just
