She was leaning tensely forward, a little figure with loose cloak flung over her shoulders, without hat, a wondrous sheen from the light on the dark, silken hair, her eyes wide, her finger still on the electric-light button. “You!” she cried sharply. “And Hawkins, too, in this!” She reached for the door handle; but John Bruce caught her hand. “Claire!” he pleaded hoarsely. “Wait! If it is a trick, at least you know that with Hawkins and me you will come to no harm. What else could I do? You would not speak to me this afternoon, you would not let me see you, and I must talk to you to-night.” She looked at him steadily. _“Must?”_ she repeated coldly. “And to-night? Why to-night?” “Because,” John Bruce answered quickly, “to-morrow would be too late. I know about to-morrow morning. Hawkins told me. He was outside the door of that room when Crang was talking to you to-night.” She sank back in her seat with a little cry. Her face had gone white--but again she steadied herself. “And--and do you think that is any reason why you should have inveigled me into this car?” she asked dully. “Do you think that anything you can say will alter--to-morrow morning?” “Yes; I do!” said John Bruce earnestly. “But”--he smiled a little bitterly--“I am afraid, too, that it will be hopeless enough if first you will not tell me what has so suddenly come between us. Claire, what is it?” The dark eyes lighted with a glint, half angry, half ironical. “Is _that_ what you brought me here for?” “No,” he said quietly. “Then,” she said coolly, “if you do not know, I will tell you. I read a letter that you wrote to a certain Mr. Larmon.” It was a long minute before he spoke. “I--I thought it might be that,” he said slowly. “I knew you had seen it. Crang told me so. And--and I was afraid you might believe it--Claire.” “Believe it!” she returned monotonously. “Had I any choice? Have I any now? I knew you were in danger. I knew it was written to save your life. I knew it was your handwriting. I knew you wrote it.” She turned away her head. “It was so miserable a lie, so cowardly a betrayal--to save your life.”