Her hand fell away from his sleeve. He stood motionless, sickly white as though something vital in him had been shattered. For, as he stared at her, he never doubted that she had spoken the truth. And the truth meant his finish. As he stood there, stricken dumb, his bony frame was shaking slightly and sweat chilled his face. He groped for control of what mind his drugs had spared him,--strove to clear it of chaos, formulate some thought, some charge of misconduct against her--something to involve her with some man. And knew, somehow, that it would be useless. The girl had not lied. Any witness she chose to call meant her vindication. After a long while he passed his scarred fingers over his face, wiping the sweat from his eyes. Then he turned, slouched toward the door, opened it. And, on the sill, slowly faced around and looked back at her. “You win, Eris,” he mumbled. “I guess you’re good.... Stay so, and I won’t bother you.... But I won’t stand for any other man.... Don’t make any mistake there.... I mean Albert Smull. I know him. I know how he gets women. You think you stop him but he’ll fool you every time.... He’s a rat.... You keep away from him.... That’s all.” He went, shambling, dull eyed, ghastly, picking at his face with long, scarred fingers. CHAPTER XXVIII As the door closed behind Graydon, Hattie appeared from the dining-room and sullenly confronted her mistress. “I ain’t a-going to stay,” she said. Eris looked up, blankly, still pale and confused by the gust of passion that had swept her. “I don’t have to work in no such kinda place,” continued the coloured woman doggedly, “and I ain’t a-going to. Mah week’s up Friday, but you pay me up to las’ night an’ I’ll go now.” The girl comprehended. A painful colour surged over her face to the roots of her hair. “Very well,” she said in a low voice. She went to her desk, opened an account book, then drew a cheque for the balance of the woman’s wages. Hattie took the cheque, hesitated: “Of co’se,” she ventured, “if yo’ wishes me to stay, Miss Eris, mah wages will be jess ten dollahs mo’ a week. Any real lady would be glad to gimme that foh all I does----” “I don’t need you,” said the girl quietly. “Go as soon as you can get ready.” “Suit yo’se’f, Mrs. Graydon,” retorted Hattie, with elaborate disrespect, “and if I may kindly persume to be excused, Mrs. Graydon, I will attend to the requiahments necessary fo’ my departure.” Said Eris: “Pack your effects, Hattie, and call an expressman. I shall not expect to find you loitering here when I return.” The coloured woman’s eyes snapped as Eris entered her bed-room and closed the door. To bathe and dress did not take her very long. When she came out she was dressed for the street. There was no breakfast on the dining-room table, but she wanted none. She went to the kitchen and found Hattie seated, feeding on hambone, and her rickety valise still unpacked.