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There may be heaven knows what sort of story behind it all. It could even be — How old do you say this girl is? Eighteen, nineteen? Then her father would be—would have been—something between forty and fifty. Why, he might have been anyone! It ’ s as though we had been led here! He might even have been — ”
    “ Mother, there ’ s no need to agitate yourself, or to imagine improbable connections. ” Celia ’ s tones were not exactly reproving, but they were definitely intended to cool any feverish excitement. “ David will make further enquiries, I am sure. But Lady Ranmere is right. The whole thing may be a story invented in a moment of desperation. David is perhaps a little too kind-hearted and easily imposed upon. ” And she smiled, winningly but a trifle indulgently, at him.
    David, however, was not in a mood to be either won or indulged. Besides, he disliked the picture of himself as good and gullible.
    “ I am not specially kind or easily imposed on, Celia, ” he assured her curtly. “ But I don ’ t intend to leave these people without help. And nor, I venture to say, would any of you, if it had been to you that the personal appeal was made. ”
    “ Ah, it ’ s that personal appeal that does it, ” Bertram declared, as his mother rose, indicating that they would leave David to finish his meal while they went off after their own pursuits. “ Be careful, my boy. What most of these girls need is a safely defined nationality. And the easiest way to get British nationality is to marry a nice, kind Briton. ”
    David did not accord this even the faintest smile, and he had the impression that he was not the only one annoyed by the careless joke. The others went away, though Mrs. Preston, he felt sure, would have liked to stay and question him further.
    Left alone, he absently finished his meal, his thoughts running incessantly on the experiences of the last few hours, and the comments which his party had made upon them.
    He was not so naive as to reject his aunt ’ s theory entirely. But all his natural instincts told him that Anya and her supposed father were people one must accept at their own face value. To David it was inconceivable that the man he had left back there in the barracks could invent a smart and plausible story at a moment ’ s notice, even to benefit his nearest and dearest.
    Having finished his meal, he went to his own room and put through a call to the Munich hotel where he believed his uncle ’ s one-time assistant was staying. And, with a good fortune he had not expected, he found that Robin Drummond had just come in.
    It took some time to explain the situation, especially as the young doctor was the kind of man who liked everything in black and white. But when David had made the situation as clear as he could, the pleasant voice with the slight Scottish accent, at the other end of the wire, said, “ But, my dear fellow, I ’ ve no possible justification for interfering professionally, you know. There must be a doctor attached to the camp. ”
    “ He ’ s German, and this man Beran won ’ t see him, ” David explained patiently, all over again. “ Will you please, as a personal favour to me, come through to Augustinberg tomorrow afternoon and pay a private visit to the camp? I can ’ t tell you how gr ateful I shall be, or how much it will relieve my mind. ”
    “ Well, of course, if you put it that way — ” There was some murmuring in the background, while Robin Drummond apparently consulted a companion. “ All right, I ’ ll be at your hotel—what is it? the Drei Kronen?—just before three tomorrow. Will that do? ”
    David said that indeed it would, and rang off feeling more relieved and satisfied than he would have thought possible. Then he went downstairs again, and almost immediately Celia sought him out.
    “ David, ” she said, putting a light and friendly hand on his arm, “ you mustn ’ t think I wasn ’ t sympathetic just now, or that I wanted to