"Pure coincidence, my lamb." She tossed the hat on a table. "And not only that," said Robin, "but while I stood there, with the door open, I thought I heard, or felt, somebody move past me. It was like a ghost." She laughed throatily. "You _are_ getting jittery, aren't you, darling?" "Just the same," he persisted, "I still have the feeling that somebody came inside this room." She looked about her happily, her long blue eyes humid with love. "Well, there's nobody here now, my precious--nobody except you and me. And that's all that matters--ever!" She slipped his arm around her supple young body, and together they moved toward the couch. And as Anton watched them sink down upon it--and also sink, in mad abandon, into the purple abyss of passion--there visited his deep-set eyes the same soft expression they had known a while ago, when Robin had said to him: "But she adores _you_, Uncle Anton." He heard her say now, a disturbing note in her throaty voice: "Oh, Robin, I love you so! So much, my darling, it almost frightens me!" "It frightens me, too, sometimes," said Robin, "when I think what might happen if Uncle Anton--d'you know, Zora, I sometimes wonder if he doesn't suspect...." She smiled dreamily into his eyes and kissed him lingeringly on the lips. "You funny boy! Why, he even thinks we hate each other!" Robin also smiled, somewhat quizzically. "Only this afternoon he told me to be more considerate of you!... But seriously, Zora, we can't go on this way indefinitely. He'll _have_ to know, sometime. We--you'll have to get a divorce, or--or something." She closed his mouth with her kisses. For a space he was silent. Then: "I wonder what this new experiment of his is." "I don't care what it is," breathed Zora, her arms around his neck. "All I care about, darling, is you." "This afternoon," Robin went on, "he seemed to imply----" "That all three of us," smiled Zora, "might celebrate tonight." And now Anton stood before them. He spoke purringly. "And so we shall, my dear," he said. Had the hotel walls caved in, the two lovers could have suffered no greater consternation. They sprang to their feet. They looked wildly about. They stared at each other in bewilderment. And all the while, Anton's voice purred softly on from his invisibility: "It is no use, my dear. You cannot see me. Nor will you ever see me again. Nor you, either, Robin, my boy. The experiment was a perfect success. Did I not say it would astound you?" * * * * * Frantic with fear--fear of they knew not what--both rushed for the door. But Anton got there first. And now they saw, suspended in mid-air, a revolver menacing them.