"Then I have your permission to remain?" "I'm not sure that you need it, and it would be inhospitable to refuse it," Geraldine replied, as if amused. Mrs. Denton looked from one to the other in a puzzled way, but she said nothing, and Mappin began to talk, relating scraps of news picked up at the Landing. Geraldine showed some interest, and after a while Mrs. Denton, seeing them apparently on good terms, judiciously left them. Then the girl ceased to respond to her companion's remarks, and Mappin, never a brilliant conversationalist, found it hard to go on. He began to show impatience, and Geraldine enjoyed his embarrassment. At last he glanced toward the piano. "I wish you would play or sing something," he begged. Geraldine rose good-humoredly and opened the piano. "I didn't know you cared for music." "I don't, as a rule." "That sounds like a compliment," she answered, smiling. "It's a pity I haven't any jingling rag-time tunes." "They're what I like--my taste isn't classical; but I don't mind your taking a shot at me. One doesn't want music to make one serious." "You think one should be serious only where money is concerned?" "Well," he said grimly, "I haven't found trying to get it very amusing; but I can be in earnest in other matters." "So I suppose," responded Geraldine, turning over the music. "Here's something that might please you. Will you light the candles?" Her amiability had cost her an effort, and it grew harder as she opened the song. It was pointed with witty coquetry, and she hesitated for a moment with a feeling of humiliation, though she meant to play out her part. Andrew and his friends were in peril in the icy wilds; somehow they were at the mercy of this cruel, gross-natured man; and, hateful as her task was, she must not shrink. She thought he could be led on to betray himself. Tingling with shame, she sang with all the fire and art she could command, and Mappin was swept off his feet. Music had no great charm for him, but the ballad was one he could appreciate, and the girl's beauty had a stronger effect. The light of the shaded candles fell on her face, which was slightly flushed, and forced up gleams in her hair. She looked inexpressibly alluring; her fine voice and arch smile well brought out the half-tender mockery of the song. He noticed the supple shapeliness of her figure and the polished whiteness of her skin, and his heart began to throb fast and his eyes to glisten. Turning over a leaf, he came near shaking down the music, and he drew back thrilled when she made a gesture of amused rebuke. There was, he felt, something very friendly in it. When she stopped he leaned on the piano looking down at her, and Geraldine knew that she had gone far enough. After having treated him with cold indifference, she must not be too gracious, lest his suspicions be aroused. The man was in her hands, but he was not a fool. She hated him as she saw the crude desire in his face.