"
"Impossible?" repeated Nur-el-Din, stamping her feet.
"Impossible? Do you know what you are saying?"
"Perfectly," replied Desmond negligently. "Obviously, you must
stay here for the rest of the night since you cannot return to
London until the trains start running, but to stay here
indefinitely as you propose to do is out of the question. People
would talk!"
"Then it is your business to see that they don't!"
"Your letter of introduction came from one whom I am always
anxious to oblige," Desmond went on. "but the service he is
authorized to claim from me does not entitle him to jeopardize my
other activities."
He drew a breath. It was a long shot. Would it draw her?
It did. Nur-el-Din fumbled in her bag, produced a leather
pocket-book and from it produced a slip of paper folded in two.
"Read that!" she cried, "and then you shall apologize!"
Desmond took the paper. It was a sheet torn from a book of German
military field messages. "Meldedienst" (Message Service) was
printed in German at the top and there were blanks to be filled
in for the date, hour and place, and at the bottom a printed form
of acknowledgment for the recipient to sign.
In a large ostentatious, upright German handwriting was written
what follows:
"To All Whom it May Concern.
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