She hesitated and then she said it was impossible, but that she appreciated his kind compliment, was flattered by it and thanked him deeply, deeply. For, of course, she realized that Mr. Stevens was one of the very best men in town at that sort of work and she was afraid she couldn't possibly be of any real use to him. "Not at all, not at all;" he was talking business now and waved aside her objections with his customary confidence. Everybody always objected to his plans for them when he began talking, but in the end he was apt to change their minds. That was why he was considered a premier solicitor. "You've a clear head and a good ear for words, that's what's needed, and----" "But--" she tried to interrupt. "And ideas, that's the point, ideas. You're clever." "What makes you think so?" "I don't think so; I know." "I'm flattered," she said firmly. "But no--really." "Well, I won't take that for a definite answer yet." Of course not. He never did. "I want you to think it over. I have the utmost confidence in the scheme and your ability to carry it out. You can tell me Monday in the office what you decide." "I can tell you now, Mr. Stevens." He rose. "Think it over anyway. You may change your mind." She rose, too, not encouraging him to stay. "Miss Connor," he spoke gravely, "there was something else I came to ask you. I'd like to know you personally as well as in a business way, if you'd just as soon. May I come to see you now and then?" She did not answer. She saw that it counted with him. He seemed really to care. She must not be brusque with him. He must not think her merely light-minded, unappreciative of the compliment of his interest. She must tell him of her marriage. "Of course, if you'd rather not for any reason, why, that settles it," there was a check in his voice, "and we'll say no more about it." Still she did not answer. He held out his hand. "Well, good-bye, then." "Good-bye." He went to the door and opened it. "Mr. Stevens." "Yes, Miss Connor." "I think you ought to know that isn't my name." "What is it, then?" "Mrs. Connor." "Mrs. Connor? Missis Connor?" "Yes." He came down into the room. His glance traveled rapidly to the four corners, like a wild animal dodging men and dogs. He had one question left, one chance of escape. "Are you a widow?" he said. "No, a married woman." Stevens went slowly out of the door without replying. The woman whom he loved belonged to another man. It was like the end of the world. VIII THE LIFE FORCE If Mason had been in the _jeunesse dorée_ he must now have gone to Monte Carlo to buck the tiger or to India to shoot him.