"That was her native tongue."
"Yeah. What does it mean?"
"'Over my dead body.'"
"Is that so?" I humphed. "She called the turn, then. I guess that's all I need, except maybe one thing: Such items as her claiming your help by using Carla's adoption paper for herself-I get all that. But I'll be darned if I can see why Ludlow said she went to the locker-room to get his cigarettes. Him a British spy and her a Balkan princess. Why did he-"
"He didn't. She went to the locker-room to steal something from his coat. Probably that paper which she sent here the next morning to be hid in a safe place, because he had previously stolen it from her. And he was letting her know that he knew that."
Wolfe sighed, pushed back his chair, and manipulated himself to his feet. "I'm going to bed." He got half-way to the door, but stopped again. "By the way, remind me to-morrow to ask Mr Cramer for that hundred dollars. I wish I could cure myself of those idiotic romantic gestures."
"Oh, that hundred?" I patted my pocket. "I've already got it. That was the first thing I did."
THE END
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