“Goodby, David,” she whispered to the ring, but inconsistently she thrust it into her dark-blue and gray leather handbag. No matter what sort of ring Van gave her, it could never be so precious to her as this cheap little ring that David had given her to mark their betrothal. She had visited Van Horne’s apartment once before with Enid, but as she gave the floor number to the elevator operator—it was one of the most exclusive and expensive of the new Park Avenue apartment houses—she thought she saw a gleam of amusement in the man’s eyes. Almost as soon as her finger had pressed the bell the door was opened by Van himself, Van in a black and maroon silk dressing gown over impeccable trousers and shirt. She was drawing back instinctively when he laughed his low, mocking laugh and, seizing her hands, pulled her resisting body into the room. “I think one reason I am so mad about you, Sally my darling, is that you are always fluttering out of my reach like a frightened bird. You are superb in a Lillian Gish role, but even Lillian Gish is captured and tamed before the end of the film. Like this!” And he laughed exultingly as his arms encircled her quivering, fluttering little body, held it crushingly against his breast. Only her head was free to weave from side to side as his flushed, laughing face came closer and closer. “The best kissing technique advocates the closing of the eyes, darling,” he gibed with tender mockery. “And there is a point at which maidenly coyness ceases to be charming. Now!” She submitted to his kiss then, but her lips were lax, unresponsive. When he released her, an angry glint in his eyes, she backed away, touching her lips involuntarily with her handkerchief. “Please don’t—kiss me again—like that, Van,” she quavered. “Not yet. I’ll marry you, but you’ll have to give me time to get used to—you.” The blank amazement in his eyes made her voice falter lamely. Then he laughed, a short bark that was utterly unlike the tenderly mocking laughter which she had always inspired in him. “You’ll _marry_ me?” His voice was staccato with contempt. “By heaven, your naivete is magnificent! You should be enshrined in a museum! Thanks for your kind offer, Miss Barr, but I must confess, if your innocence will stand the strain, that my intentions in regard to you did not include marriage. They were strictly dishonorable. When a Van Horne allows himself to be led to the altar, the successful huntress is a woman who is at least socially worthy to be the mother of future Van Hornes. There is as yet no bar sinister on our coat of arms....