"I get ze raygeester; you read heem yourself." He darted into the bureau and returned with a black book.
"_Ecco_, signorina!" spreading it on the table before her.
His alacrity should have aroused her suspicions; but she was too intent on the matter in hand.

She turned the pages and paused at the week's entries; Rudolph Ziegelmann und Frau, Berlin; and just beneath, in bold black letters that stretched from margin to margin, Abraham Lincoln, U.
S.A.
Gustavo hovered above anxiously watching her face; he had been told that this would make everything right, that Abraham Lincoln was an exceedingly respectable name.

Constance's expression did not change.

She looked at the writing for fully three minutes, then she opened her purse and looked inside.

She laid the money for the eggs in a pile on the table, and took out an extra lira which she held in her hand.
"Gustavo," she asked, "do you think that you _could_ tell me the truth ?" "Signorina!" he said reproachfully.
"How did that name get there ?" "He write it heemself!" [Illustration: "She turned the pages and paused at the week's entries."] "Yes, I dare say he did--but it doesn't happen to be his name.