“Another minute, Miss Gilmore!” She turned about. “Miss Gilmore, you are my last chance--and Jack’s last chance.” He spoke more rapidly. “I’ve simply got to have you--you understand. You must have had some real kind of attachment for Jack or you’d never have offered what you did. And certainly Jack likes you or you’d never have had the influence over him that you’ve proved you possess. Listen--let’s consider it all from another angle. Miss Gilmore, when you were at the Grantham as ‘Mrs. Gardner’ you told me you had a husband--but excuse me, I do not believe it. Miss Gilmore”--he halted, there was a super-gulp, then he went on--“Miss Gilmore, if you are free, I want you to marry Jack.” Clifford, Loveman, and Bradley, equally astounded, gazed at Mary. She seemed to be able only to stare at Mr. Morton. “Whatever I may have said or thought against you, I’ll say this in your favor,” Mr. Morton continued, rapidly as before--“that you were so discreet in your affair with Jack, you kept it all so secret, that I’m sure there will be no scandal. We’ll not have that to face. So I ask you, as a favor, to marry him.” Clifford, still dazed by the swift manner in which his plan had leaped beyond itself, breathlessly held his gaze on Mary. Her dark eyes were wild, her lips loosely parted--the figure of one bewildered beyond realization of what had happened. Then she caught a sharp breath and high excitement came into her face. At that same instant Clifford saw the magnitude of what had suddenly been opened to her--and he saw that she was seeing it, too. At last, by a strange twist of circumstances and of Clifford’s attempt to guide events, she had _won_! Won all that was included in her original plan! And most amazing of all, what she had thought to get as the reward of scheming, she was now being begged to accept as a favor--wealth, worldly position, and all that each could bring! And Clifford, in this high moment, realized another thing. All these months of her big dreams, of her indomitable and skillful scheming, she had had one great, ever-present fear--that some one might expose her identity and her past, and bring to instant nothingness her magnificent dreams. How she had fought exposure--desperately and daringly, with her all of cleverness! And now, if she were only moderately careful, she need no longer fear exposure--and when exposure came, if it did, she would have so established herself that it could no longer injure her. Events, Clifford’s efforts, the working-out of conflicting human impulses, the operations of that erratic thing which we call chance or fate or destiny--all these could not have combined more perfectly to be her friend--could not have combined better to bring her the worldly substance of her daring dreams. “You’ll do it, won’t you?” prompted Mr. Morton.