“That's where you slip up, Nell,” said Hamlin imperturbably. “It WAS an accident and a bad one. My horse lamed himself coming down the grade. I sighted the nearest shanty, where I thought I might get another horse. It happened to be this.” For the first time he changed his attitude, and leaned back contemplatively in his chair. She came towards him quickly. “You didn't use to lie, Jack,” she said hesitatingly. “Couldn't afford it in my business,--and can't now,” said Jack cheerfully. “But,” he added curiously, as if recognizing something in his companion's agitation, and lifting his brown lashes to her, the window, and the ceiling, “what's all this about? What's your little game here?” “I'm married,” she said, with nervous intensity,--“married, and this is my husband's house!” “Not married straight out!--regularly fixed?” “Yes,” she said hurriedly. “One of the boys? Don't remember any Rylands. SPELTER used to be very sweet on you,--but Spelter mightn't have been his real name?” “None of our lot! No one you ever knew; a--a straight out, square man,” she said quickly. “I say, Nell, look here! You ought to have shown up your cards without even a call. You ought to have told him that you danced at the Casino.” “I did.” “Before he asked you to marry him?” “Before.” Jack got up from his chair, put his hands in his pockets, and looked at her curiously. This Nell Montgomery, this music-hall “dance and song girl,” this girl of whom so much had been SAID and so little PROVED! Well, this was becoming interesting. “You don't understand,” she said, with nervous feverishness; “you remember after that row I had with Jim, that night the manager gave us a supper,--when he treated me like a dog?” “He did that,” interrupted Jack. “I felt fit for anything,” she said, with a half-hysterical laugh, that seemed voiced, however, to check some slumbering memory. “I'd have cut my throat or his, it didn't matter which”-- “It mattered something to us, Nell,” put in Jack again, with polite parenthesis; “don't leave US out in the cold.” “I started from 'Frisco that night on the boat ready to fling myself into anything--or the river!” she went on hurriedly. “There was a man in the cabin who noticed me, and began to hang around. I thought he knew who I was,--had seen me on the posters; and as I didn't feel like foolin', I told him so. But he wasn't that kind. He said he saw I was in trouble and wanted me to tell him all.” Mr. Hamlin regarded her cheerfully. “And you told him,” he said, “how you had once run away from your childhood's happy home to go on the stage! How you always regretted it, and would have gone back but that the doors were shut forever against you! How you longed to leave, but the wicked men and women around you always”--