“What, Jimmie hasn’t showed up yet!... For God’s sake, get hold of him somehow--tell him to come right over to Le Bain’s house--you know the number--with three or four of his men. Something big is going to break!--big!--you get me? And tell him to round up Mr. Morton on the way and see that he comes here after his son. I’ll put the key under the doormat, so he can get in without disturbing any one. I want the thing to come to a head before we act.” Noiselessly Clifford crept out and hid the key. Then noiselessly he slipped back to his post at the curtains in the drawing-room. CHAPTER XXX WHEN WOMEN NEVER TALK Mary Regan had drawn nearer the table, and pale, her figure tense, she was gazing fixedly at Jack--waiting. Jack was gazing back sheepishly, stubbornly,--and Nina Cordova and Nan Burdette and Hilton were staring at Mary in insolent triumph. Little Loveman’s face was expressionless. Behind her, near the doorway, ready to move swiftly, if there was need, stood Slim Harrison. At that instant Clifford realized that his supreme interest was centered upon that trapped figure in the next room--and that his supreme efforts would have as their chief object the extrication of Mary Regan from whatever crisis might be about to develop. But at the same time Clifford realized that his duty demanded that he hold himself in check, and allow Loveman to reveal the details of his plan by action, and then catch him in the act. He would then have evidence--real evidence. “Are you coming, Jack?” Mary was saying quietly. “Go on with her, Jack,” Nina Cordova taunted him. “None of us believed you had the nerve really to go through with what you were bragging about!” “Man’s got ri’ do wha’ever he pleases--got ri’ have li’l’ fun,” Jack said obstinately, his eyes still fixed on Mary. “Are you coming, Jack?” she repeated in the same quiet voice. He wavered. Clifford sensed that the young fellow’s finer instincts were trying to struggle through the murk of his being; and mixed with his disgust he felt a pity for this likable weakling who had been brought to this low estate. “All ri’,” Jack said sullenly, and started to leave the table. “One moment, Jack,” cut in the soft, even voice of Loveman--and Clifford saw Loveman give Mary a quick, vindictive glance. “Before you go with her, Jack, I think you ought to know who she is. I only just now found out myself. Her name is Mary Regan, all right, but she comes of a crook family, and she herself has been a confidence-woman and all-around adventuress. She married you solely to do you out of your money. Ask her to deny it!” “It’s true, Jack. But--”