'_Red and Black_,' he told her. 'Isn't that a fine title?' 'Yes,' she said. 'But it's been used before;' and she gave him particulars of Stendhal's novel, of which he had never heard. 'Oh, well!' he exclaimed, somewhat dashed. 'As Stendhal was a Frenchman, and his book doesn't deal with gambling at all, I think I may stick to my title. I thought of it myself, you know.' 'Oh yes, dearest. I _know_ you did,' Geraldine said eagerly. 'You think I'd better alter it?' Geraldine glanced at the floor. 'You see,' she murmured, 'Stendhal was a really great writer.' He started, shocked. She had spoken in such a way that he could not be sure whether she meant, 'Stendhal was a really _great_ writer,' or, '_Stendhal_ was a _really_ great writer.' If the former, he did not mind, much. But if the latter--well, he thought uncomfortably of what Tom had said to him in the train. And he perceived again, and more clearly than ever before, that there was something in Geraldine which baffled him--something which he could not penetrate, and never would penetrate. 'Suppose I call it _Black and Red_? Will that do?' he asked forlornly. 'It would do,' she answered; 'but it doesn't sound so well.' 'I've got it!' he cried exultantly. 'I've got it! _The Plague-Spot._ Monte Carlo the plague-spot of Europe, you know.' 'Splendid!' she said with enthusiasm. 'You are always magnificent at titles.' And it was universally admitted that he was. The book had been triumphantly finished, and the manuscript delivered to Macalistairs via Mark Snyder, and the huge cheque received under cover of a letter full of compliments on Henry's achievement. Macalistairs announced that their _Magazine_ would shortly contain the opening chapters of Mr. Henry Shakspere Knight's great romance, _The Plague-Spot_, which would run for one year, and which combined a tremendous indictment of certain phases of modern life with an original love-story by turns idyllic and dramatic. _Gordon's Monthly_ was serializing the novel in America. About this time, an interview with Henry, suggested by Sir Hugh Macalistair himself, appeared in an important daily paper. 'It is quite true,' said Henry in the interview, 'that I went to Monte Carlo to obtain first-hand material for my book. The stories of my breaking the bank there, however, are wildly exaggerated. Of course, I played a little, in order to be able to put myself in the place of my hero. I should explain that I was in Monte Carlo with my cousin, Mr. Dolbiac, the well-known sculptor and painter, who was painting portraits there. Mr. Dolbiac is very much at home in Parisian artistic society, and he happened to introduce me to a famous French lady singer who was in Monte Carlo at the time. This lady and I found ourselves playing at the same table. From time to time I put down her stakes for her; that was all. She certainly had an extraordinary run of luck, but the bank was actually broken at last by the united bets of a number of people.