CHAPTER XXIII

THE LETTER As Craig looked at himself in the long mirror of his own room in the Ritz-Astor, that evening, there was no vanity in him, but he was satisfied with the appearance that he made. Any man would have been. He was the figure of a man to stir the admiration of men as much as of women--tall, supple, narrow-waisted, broad and flat as to the shoulders. He had dined in his room, at Courtney’s suggestion. He glanced at the small electric clock on the mantel. Eight thirty. Time for the meeting in suite No. 53. Crai…