She was kneeling before the safe, was working the combination, paper in hand. The knob clicked as the rings fell into place; she turned the bolt and swung the door open. She reached into the safe. Suddenly she drew her hand back and sat up on the floor, looking at the package. "Why, it's for use in the convention!" she exclaimed. She did not move for several minutes; when she did, it was to examine the time lock, to reset it, to close the door and bolt it and throw the lock off the combination. Then she rose and slowly descended to the library. As she reappeared, empty-handed, Culver started violently and scrutinized her face. Its expression put him in a panic. "Mrs. Dumont!" he exclaimed wildly. "Has it been stolen?" She shook her head. "No," she said. "It's there." Trembling from weakness in the reaction, he leaned against the table, wiping his sweating brow with sweating hands. "But," she went on, "it must stay there." He looked open-mouthed at her. "You have brought the money out here for use in the convention," she went on with perfect calmness. "You have tried to make me a partner in that vile business. And--I refuse to play the part assigned me. I shall keep the money until the convention is over." He looked round like a terror-stricken drowning man, about to sink for the last time. "I'm ruined! I'm ruined!" he almost screamed. "No," she said, still calm. "You will not be ruined, though you deserve to be. But I understand why you have become callous to the commonplace decencies of life, and I shall see to it that no harm comes to you." "Mr. Dumont will--DESTROY me! You don't realize, Mrs. Dumont. Vast property interests are at stake on the result of this convention--that's our cause. And you are imperiling it!" "Imperiling a cause that needs lies and bribes to save it?" she said ironically. "Please calm yourself, Mr. Culver. You certainly can't be blamed for putting your money in a safe place. I take the responsibility for the rest. And when you tell Mr. Dumont exactly what happened, you will not be blamed or injured in any way." "I shall telegraph him at once," he warned her. "Certainly," said Pauline. "He might blame you severely for failing to do that." He paused in his pacing up and down the room. He flung his arms toward her, his eyes blazing. "I WILL have it!" he exclaimed. "Do you hear me, I WILL! I'll bring men from down-town and have the safe blown open. The money is not yours--it is----" She advanced to the bell. "Another word, Mr. Culver, and I'll have the servants show you the door. Yours is a strange courage--to dare to speak thus to me when your head should be hanging in shame for trying to make such base use of me and my courtesy and friendliness." His arms dropped, and he lowered his head. "I beg your pardon," he said humbly. "I'm not myself. I think I'm going insane. PITY me!"