It was a bitter awakening. Marie Tarnowska became terrified. She could not earn her living; she must beg or borrow, or kill herself; and she had no desire to die. She was walking to a telegraph office to send a message to her father explaining her position and imploring him to respond, when she heard her name pronounced by some one behind her. Turning, she recognized Donat Prilukoff, one of the wealthiest lawyers in Moscow. He had been a visitor at her house in the days of her glory, and Marie had been aware that he was in love with her. Prilukoff was rich! Marie recollected that too! She had disliked him in the past, but she was poor now and beggars cannot be choosers. "My dear friend," she murmured, and tears came into her fascinating eyes. Prilukoff guessed how her affairs stood, and came to the rescue, but she could not forget her antipathy to the lawyer. A new passion had arisen in her, however, a passion for money, and henceforth she meant never to feel the want of it again, even if she had to pretend to love Prilukoff. They became inseparable, the Moscow lawyer and the beautiful adventuress who had broken so many hearts and her own life. "What has become of Dr. Stahl?" Marie asked shortly after their reunion. Prilukoff laughed carelessly. "He shot himself through the heart the other day," he said, in a callous tone. "They sent for me, and he died with your name on his lips, Marie." She was "Marie" now to the man she had christened "The Scorpion" when she was rich and at the height of her popularity. Prilukoff, middle-aged and unromantic-looking, was fiercely in love with the countess. At all their previous meetings he had been thrust into the background by the clever, handsome young men who had worshipped at Marie Tarnowska's shrine, but now he had her to himself. Every day she accepted money from him. Her creditors having discovered her address, presented their bills with unveiled threats. Prilukoff saved the situation each time. He paid out thousands of pounds, and Marie Tarnowska hated him the more she was indebted to him. Had he ill-treated her she might have showered kisses on his feet, but he was recklessly generous, and she despised and hated him. She was that sort of woman. It was necessary, of course, that they should move about, for it would have damaged Prilukoff's reputation as a sound family lawyer whom elderly ladies could trust with their investments if it was known that he was supplying a notorious woman with funds. Marie gladly went to Italy, leaving the lawyer to attend to his business, but he was with her again within seventy-two hours. "I cannot bear to let you out of my sight," he said. "The business must take care of itself." "But what about money?" asked Marie nervously. It was all she thought of now. "I owe a thousand pounds to my dressmaker, and----" Prilukoff produced a roll of notes. "Don't be afraid," he said, "there is always plenty to be had."