"Wha's more, I know now who gave you that ring. I was fool not to guess it before. I didn't give it to you--no! Mist' Matthias didn't give it to you--no! But somebody _did_ give it to you--_eh?_ Tha's right, isn't it? And his name--'s name was _Vincent Marbridge_! Wasn't it?" He thrust his inflamed face close to hers, leering wickedly. "Marbridge!" Joan echoed blankly. "Vincent Marbridge--tha's the feller't give you the ring. He's the feller't could do it, too--got all the money in the world--enough to buy dozens'r rings--enough to buy you all them good clothes you got hold of after you threw me down and before I was ass enough to take up with you again! A' that, you were a fool not to get more outa him." The insult ate like an acid into the pride of the girl. She flushed crimson, then in an instant paled again. Her eyes grew cold and hard. "That will do," she said bitterly. "You've said enough--too much. After all I've endured from you--your drunkenness, your--" There was a maniac glare in the eyes of the man as he thrust his face still closer. "And what'll you do, eh?" he shouted violently. "What'll _you_ do?" She turned her face aside, in disgust of his reeking breath. "And what'll _you_ do? Tell me that!" "I'll leave you--" "You betcha life you'll leave me. I knew _that_ before you come into this room!" "And I'm sorry I didn't go long ago--" "The hell you are!" In a gust of uncontrollable frenzy, Quard struck her sharply over the mouth. "You go--d'you hear?--you damn'----" In blind fury Joan flung herself upon him, sobbing, biting, scratching, kicking. He reeled back before that unexpected assault, then, sobered a trifle by its viciousness, caught her wrists, held her helpless for an instant, and threw her violently from him. She fell to her knees, lurched over on her side.... The door slammed: he was gone. [Illustration: The door slammed. He was gone.] She knew the man too well not to know he would make instantly for the nearest bar; the only question was what guise intoxication would assume in him, this time. It was possible that he would drink himself raving mad and return fit for murder. She must make her escape with all possible expedition.... Instantly Joan sat up, dried her eyes, convulsively swallowed her sobs, and felt of her bruised mouth. Before her on the carpet the diamond ring winked sardonically in the sunset light. She pondered savagely the wide and deep damnation it had wrought in her life. It seemed impossible that only a few minutes had elapsed since she had entered this room, an affectionate, patient, and not unhappy wife. Now she sifted her heart and found in it not one grain of the love it had once held for Quard. This alone would have rendered irrevocable her decision to leave him. The thing was over--settled--finished. She gave a gesture of finality. With all her heart she hoped that the sketch would go to the devil without her....