She rose from her seat. She was trembling from head to foot. To support herself she stretched a hand to the mantel and clutching it, she steadied herself. Then, still looking him in the face, she said huskily, “You tell me Lenox Leigh cheated at cards? It is not true!” “He _is_ your lover, then!” hissed Incoul, and into his green, dilated eyes there came a look of such hideous hate that the girl shrank back. In her fear she held out her arms as though to shield herself from him, and screamed aloud. “You are going to kill me!” she cried. “Be quiet,” he answered, “you will wake the house.” But the order was needless. The girl fell backwards on the lounge. He stood and looked at her without moving. Presently she moaned; her eyes opened and her sobs broke out afresh. And still he gazed as though in the enjoyment of a hope fulfilled. “Now get to your bed,” he said, at last. His eyes searched the room. On a table was a pink box labeled bromide of potassium, and filled with powders wrapped in tin foil. He opened and smelled of one and then opened another and poured the contents of both into a glass which he half filled with water. “Drink it,” he said. She obeyed dumbly. The tears fell into the glass as she drank. But in a little while her sobs came only intermittently. “I will sleep now,” she murmured, helplessly. “I think I will sleep now.” Yet still he waited. Her head had fallen far back on the sofa, her hair drooped about her shoulders, her lips were gray. He took her in his arms and carried her to the bed. One of her furred slippers dropped on the way, the other he took from her. The foot it held hardly filled his palm. He loosened her gown. He would have taken it off but he feared to awake her. Was she really asleep, he wondered. He peered down at her eyelids but they did not move. Surely she slept. A door that led to a dressing-room was open. He closed it. The chair in which he had sat he restored to its original position. Then he turned out the gas. On each of the fixtures his fingers rested the fraction of a minute longer than was necessary. He groped to the door, opened it noiselessly and listened. There was no sound. The house was still as a tomb. He closed the door behind him and drawing the nameless instrument from his pocket he inserted it carefully in the keyhole, gave it a quick turn and went to his room. CHAPTER XVIII. MR. INCOUL GOES OVER THE ACCOUNTS.