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 frankness of outlook. It implied, he felt, a courage seldom demanded or met with in the immured and upholstered walls of a modern woman's world.

"I thought it could be done this morning," she went on hurriedly, yet in a tone so low that he had to stoop a little to catch her words. "Ganley left his cabin early; I was ready and waiting. The moment he was away I let myself into his room."

She stopped to smile at his start of astonishment.

"I had won over my stewardess," she went on. "A few dollars completed the conquest and made everything so much easier. She even found a pass-key that fitted. I could see it was dangerous, and I had very little time. But I failed. The receipt was not there."

But you can't do this sort of thing," McKinnon expostulated. He remembered an earlier speech of hers: "It's one of the small things that count in war—and this is war."

"Isn't it rather late for going back over that ground?" she was saying.

"But this sort of thing involves too much risk! It's too unfair to you!"

"I looked through everything, as far as I could," the girl at his side went on, not heeding