“Yes,” she said. “I will be there.” She spoke softly, but there was a note of menace in her voice. Yes, she would indeed be there. From the very moment when this man had made his monstrous proposal, she had been asking herself what Gloria Gooch would have done in a crisis like this. And the answer was plain. Gloria Gooch, if her sister-in-law was intending to visit the apartments of a libertine, would have gone there herself to save the poor child from the consequences of her infatuated folly. “Yes,” said Jane, “I will be there.” “You have made me the happiest man in the world,” said Rodney. “I will meet you at the corner of the street at four, then.” He paused. “What is that curious clicking noise?” he asked. “I don’t know,” said Jane. “I noticed it myself. Something wrong with the wire, I suppose.” “I thought it was somebody playing the castanets. Until to-morrow, then, good-bye.” “Good-bye.” Jane replaced the receiver. And William, who had been listening to every word of the conversation on the extension in his den, replaced his receiver, too. * * * * * Anastatia came back from her visit late that night. She took her letter, and read it without comment. At breakfast next morning she said that she would be compelled to go into town that day. “I want to see my dressmaker,” she said. “I’ll come, too,” said Jane. “I want to see my dentist.” “So will I,” said William. “I want to see my lawyer.” “That will be nice,” said Anastatia, after a pause. “Very nice,” said Jane, after another pause. “We might all lunch together,” said Anastatia. “My appointment is not till four.” “I should love it,” said Jane. “My appointment is at four, too.” “So is mine,” said William. “What a coincidence!” said Jane, trying to speak brightly. “Yes,” said William. He may have been trying to speak brightly, too; but, if so, he failed. Jane was too young to have seen Salvini in “Othello,” but, had she witnessed that great tragedian’s performance, she could not have failed to be struck by the resemblance between his manner in the pillow scene and William’s now. “Then shall we all lunch together?” said Anastatia. “I shall lunch at my club,” said William, curtly. “William seems to have a grouch,” said Anastatia. “Ha!” said William. He raised his fork and drove it with sickening violence at his sausage. * * * * *