He gazed out of the restaurant window at the church parade on the broad Fifth Avenue walk, and with eyes that saw more than the passing throng. Two or three couples went by whom he knew--men and their wives going home after service. They suggested domesticity, companionship, the best there is for human beings in this old world of ours. He realized what he had lost--aye, what he had merely grasped at only to have the treasure snatched from him by this cruel turn of fate. Later he went out and wandered about somewhat aimlessly. Not that he expected to find either of the two people he was looking for. They would not be in the Sunday street crowd. And yet he could not help looking into the faces of those he met with keen scrutiny. He could not easily set on foot any serious search for Ruth and White on Sunday. Nor was he sure he wished to. The thought of bringing the police or even private detectives into the case horrified him. Yet, was he to lose Ruth without lifting a hand to win her back? All day long John Ryder weltered in the waters of indecision. Should he seek Ruth through the regular police channels? Should he let matters run their own course? This was a new state of mind for the determined, decisive business man. Somewhere over on the West Side, about seven o'clock he dropped in at a restaurant to dine. Afterward he wandered slowly down the broad and busy avenue that lends itself the airs of Broadway after dark, jostled by the crowds, without a person to speak to and desirous indeed of no companionship. He came to a theater before which was a huge billboard that advertised mockingly "Sacred Concert," following which was a long list of vaudeville turns. Many of the crowd turned in here. There were speculators at the door hawking tickets, and a little eddy of people held up John Ryder. His eye caught, altogether by accident it would seem, in flaring red type, the following announcement: SPECIAL ATTRACTION First Appearance of ENGLAND'S MOST FAMOUS ENTERTAINER MISS MONT Imitator and Comédienne Under the sole management of Mr. Sam Marks Seeing that he was attracting attention, Ryder moved away. People were looking into his face curiously. He felt his heart pounding as though it would burst through the shell of his chest. Rage blinded him. Despair shook him through every fibre of his being. The half darkness of a narrower thoroughfare offered him shelter. The horror and shame of his position well nigh leveled John Ryder's pride with the ground. He saw what it all meant now. There could be, he thought, no further doubt or mistake. She had intended to do this from the first. Marks had doubtless put her up to it. The scandal of her having married Ryder and left him after twenty-four hours--on some trumped up charge of course--would give her an amount of free advertising such as no vaudeville actress could resist!