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THE BEAUTIFUL WHITE DEVIL.

look down at the star-spangled water oozing its silent way towards the sea. It was all very quiet, and as far as we could see we had the street to ourselves. Suddenly Miss Sanderson dropped her American accent, and said in quite a different voice—

"Dr. De Normanville, this has gone far enough. Do you know me now?"

It was Alie!

To say that I was taken by surprise would not be to express my condition at all. I was simply overwhelmed with astonishment, and for some seconds could only stand and stare at her in complete amazement. Her disguise was so perfect, her American accent was so real, her acting had been so wonderfully maintained, that I never for an instant suspected the trick she had been playing upon me.

"You! Alie," I cried when at last I found my voice. "Is it possible that Miss Sanderson has been a myth all the time?"

"Not only quite possible, but a fact," she answered, with a laugh. "Yes! I am Alie, and no more Miss Sanderson, of New York, than you are. Do me the justice to remember I warned you I was good at disguising myself. My reason for not revealing my identity to you before was that I wanted thoroughly to test the value of the part I was playing, and since you, who know me so well, did not recognise me, I am inclined to believe nobody else will."

"It is simply marvellous. If you had not declared yourself I should never have known you. And your companion is therefore not Mrs. Beecher, whose husband's patent double-action sofa springs are so justly famous, any more than you are Miss Sanderson?"