"About noon. Inquiries are going on quietly."
The young man directed a troubled and accusing look from his fine
eyes upon Miss Brewster.
"You see, Miss Polly," he said, "no lady should go about
unprotected down here."
"Ordinarily it's as safe as any city," said Sherwen. "Just now I
can't be so certain."
"I hate being watched over like a child!" pouted Miss Brewster.
"And I love sight-seeing alone. The flowers along the Calvario
Road were so lovely."
"That's the road to the palace," remarked Carroll, looking at her
closely.
"And the butterflies are so marvelous," she continued cheerfully.
"Who lives in that salmon-pink pagoda just this side of the
curve?"
Trouble sat dark and heavy upon the handsome features of Mr.
Preston Fairfax Fitzhugh Carroll, but he was too experienced to
put a direct query to his inamorata. What suspicion he had, he
cherished until after dinner, when he took it to the club and made
it the foundation of certain inquiries.
Thus it happened that at eleven o'clock that evening, he paused
before a bench in the plaza, bowered in the bloom of creepers
which flowed down from a balcony of the Kast, and occupied by the
comfortably sprawled-out form of Mr.
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