Suddenly, out of the pigeon-holes of her mind, tumbled the covers of the chairs which James wanted to clean. The very pattern of the exquisite needlework presented itself. "Oh!" she exclaimed. "What’s the matter, dearest? This excitement has been too much for you. Do let me handle your father. Believe me, I can do it in our joint interest." She gazed at him queerly, a tiny, vertical line between her dark eyebrows. "Has father done something dishonest?" The colour rushed back into her cheeks as she spoke, but her eyes remained upon his. When he made no reply, she continued: "Are you threatening to expose some fraud, a fraud connected with—chairs?" "God! You are clever!" said James, unable to hide his admiration, or to believe that she had swooped upon the truth. She sighed. "Then it is true." There was no interrogation in those four words. "Well, yes; it is true." He hurried on, fearing that she might interrupt him. "I wanted to spare you knowledge of that. Fortune has placed in my hands a weapon. I am using it for both our sakes. Between our two selves, my dearest, I can admit to you that I should not really ruin your father. What an idea!" "Then you are bluffing?" "I am. I want you so desperately." He attempted to kiss her, but she repulsed him gently. "If mother knew——" "She need not know. Your father will climb down at the last moment. He knows, and Tomlin knows, that I can ruin both of them." "It’s as bad as that?" "Yes. He must surrender!" "But if he shouldn’t? Jim, dear, you said last night that you would take me as I am; and I loved you for saying that. Now, you want to bargain for me." "To bargain for you, darling; not for myself." She nodded, accepting his explanation, able to put herself in his place. Beholding the situation from his point of view, panoramically, she tried, in turn, to see the same situation from the point of view of her father. She exclaimed softly: "Gracious!" The expression upon her face puzzled James. Men, even the cleverest, can follow women’s bodies easier than their thoughts. "Try to be sensible about this," he murmured. "It’s so exciting. Don’t you see that this is a test of father, a wonderful test!" "Of what?" "Of his love for me, of his love for mother." "Eh?" "Don’t be dense, Jim! Mother has accused father of not caring much for us; but, if he risks ruin for our sake, he does care." "Pooh! He’s bluffing, too!" "I am not certain of that. Anyway"—her face cleared; she beamed at him delightfully—"I should like you to make good, Jim, without horrid threats, without bluffing. Take me as I am, if you want me. You can earn a good living anywhere. I’m not afraid of a little poverty with you." "You don’t know what poverty is, Posy. I do. I’m afraid of poverty for the woman I care about." "Do you mean that you refuse to take me as I am?" Bathos and pathos are twins. James passed, with an unconsidered bound, from climax to anticlimax. He said irritably: