Edward Phillips Oppenheim

“ Wrayson said; "but what about the murder of Morris Barnes, on the very night, you know, when Louise was there?"
"It is all a very simple matter," the Baroness answered, quietly, "but yet it is a matter where the death of a few such men would count for nothing. A few ages ago it would not have been a matter of a dozen Morris Barnes, no, nor a thousand! Diplomacy is just as cruel, and just as ruthless, as the battlefield, only it works, down there—underground!" ”

“ Wrayson will be angry with you, and I shall make myself very, very agreeable to him, and who knows but he will forget all about you?' But Louise she only shake her head. She knows her own countrymen too well. They are so terribly insularly constant."
"Is that such a very bad quality, Baroness?"
"Ah! I find it so," she admitted. "I do not like the man who can think of only one thing, only one woman at a time. He is so dull, he has no imagination. If he has only one sweetheart, how can he know anything about us? for in a hundred different women there are no two alike." ”

“ Wrayson replied.
The Baroness suddenly dropped her veil, but not before Wrayson had seen a sudden change in her face. He remembered suddenly that Heneage was no stranger to her, he remembered the embarrassment of their meeting at the Alhambra.
"You know him, of course," he repeated. "Heneage is not a man to be trifled with. He has had experience in affairs of this sort, he is no ordinary amateur detective."
"Yes! I know Mr. Stephen Heneage," the Baroness said. "Tell me, does Louise know?" ”