Could they be, she
wondered, passwords by which he gained access somewhere to government
buildings or places where munitions were being made or shipped?
Meanwhile her acquaintance with Frederic Hoff had been progressing
rapidly. As she had suggested he had called on her and had been
presented to her father, and on the next Saturday they had gone to a
matinee together. She had been eager to see what her father thought of
him, for Mr. Strong, she knew, was regarded as a shrewd judge of men.
"What does that young Hoff do who was here last night?" her father had
asked at the breakfast table.
"He's in the importing business with his uncle, I think," she had
answered.
"Where'd you meet him?"
"He lives in the apartment next door. Lieutenant Kramer introduced him."
"He's German, isn't he?"
"Oh, no," said Jane, almost unconsciously rallying to defend him, "he
was born in this country."
"Well, it's a German name."
"Don't you like him?"
"He talks well," her father said, "and seems to be well-bred."
It was with reluctance, too, that Jane admitted to herself that the
better acquainted she became with Frederic Hoff the more fascinating she
found his society. She was always expecting that by some word or action
he would reveal to her his true character.
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