“You want me to stay here, don’t you? You won’t turn me out ...? He followed me, but I slipped him.” “Stay here?” Gordon hardly recognised his own voice. “Are you mad?” She looked at him suspiciously. “Are you married?” “No.” And then a flashing inspiration. “Yes.” “Yes-no,” she said impatiently. “What are you--divorced?” “No. You see how absurd it is, Heloise.” “You are married to Diana.” She pointed an accusing finger. Gordon could only nod idiotically. “You really must go,” he squeaked. “This may mean ruin for me!” Her lips curled as she drew back, hands on hips. “Do I get any of that ruin?” she demanded. “You must go back to your husband.” His brain was alert now. “Tell him you have made a mistake----” “He pretty well guesses that,” she interrupted bitterly, and slowly took off her wrap. Instantly Gordon seized it. “Put it on, put it on!” he wailed, but she twisted herself loose. “I will not go, I will not! Oh, Gordon, you can’t turn me out after all we’ve been to one another! After all the confidences!” He was pushing her toward the courtyard door, a man beside himself, frenzied with fear, terrified beyond hope of succour. “Out of the side door!” he hissed. “I will meet you in half an hour, at a teashop somewhere. Heloise, don’t you realise my reputation depends----” It needed but this to pull the mask from her face. “Teashop! I am to be thrown to the lions!” He looked hard at her. Could a woman pun in such a solemn moment? “As to your reputation,” she drawled coolly, “that sort of thing doesn’t make me get out of bed and walk round, I assure you! I will not leave this house--alone!” Gordon covered his mouth with his hand. He was in no danger of talking. He wanted to cover her mouth with his hand, but she was too far away. It was an involuntary gesture which silenced her. She heard the knock at the door, and then Diana’s voice: “Who is there?” He pointed to the side door, grimacing. Heloise was adamant. “Who’s there?” said Diana. “Side door,” whispered Gordon frantically. Heloise shook her head, hesitated, and then stole silently behind the curtain into the recess. It was her final compromise. “Who is there? Who locked the door?” Diana’s voice was urgent. Gordon straightened his coat, smoothed his hair, unlocked the door and threw it wide open. “It’s all right, dear.” He was grinning inanely like a cat. “Ha ha--it’s only Gordon--Gord, as you would say! I’m just coming out ... here I am back again ... like a bad penny.” In Diana’s eyes was a glitter which he did not like, and as she advanced he backed instantly before her. “Only old Gordon--ha ha!” he said feebly. “Very funny. I’ll laugh to-morrow,” said Diana. The vulgarity of the ancient music-hall gag did not even arouse him. “So it’s only old Gordon, is it?” She nodded wisely. “Sit over there--old Gordon!” She pointed to a chair.