She wondered, vaguely, whether he was afraid of anything except possible damage to her reputation. She had, lately, considered this question on several occasions. Being no coward, as far as mere fear for her life was concerned, she found it difficult to attribute such fear to him. Indeed, one of the traits in her which he found inexplicable and which he disliked was a curious fearlessness of death--not uncommon among women who, all their lives, have had little to live for. She said: "If I am not worth a little risk, what is my value to you?" "You talk like a baby," he retorted. "Is an interview worth risking a scandal that will spatter the whole town?" "I never count such risks," she said wearily. "Do as you please." His voice became angry: "Haven't I enough to face already without hunting more trouble at present? I supposed I could look to you for sympathy and aid and common sense, and every day you call me up and demand that I shall drop everything and fling caution to the winds, and meet you somewhere! Every day of the year you do it----" "I have been away ten days--" she faltered, turning sick and white at the words he was shouting through the telephone. "Well, it was understood you'd stay for a month, wasn't it? Can't you give me time to turn around? Can't you give me half a chance? Do you realise what I'm facing? _Do_ you?" "Yes. I'm sorry I called you; I was so miserable and lonely----" "Well, try to think of somebody besides yourself. You're not the only miserable person in this city. I've all the misery I can carry at present; and if you wish to help me, don't make any demands on me until I'm clear of the tangle that's choking me." "Dear, I only wanted to help you--" she stammered, appalled at his tone and words. "All right, then, let me alone!" he snarled, losing all self-command. "I've stood about all of this I'm going to, from you and your brother both! Is that plain? I want to be let alone. That is plainer still, isn't it?" "Yes," she said. Her face had become deathly white; she stood frozen, motionless, clutching the receiver in her small hand. His voice altered as he spoke again: "Don't feel hurt; I lost my temper and I ask your pardon. But I'm half crazy with worry--you've seen to-day's papers, I suppose--so you can understand a man's losing his temper. Please forgive me; I'll try to see you when I can--when it's advisable. Does that satisfy you?" "Yes," she said in a dull voice. She put away the receiver and, turning, dropped onto her bed. At eight o'clock the maid who had come to announce dinner found her young mistress lying there, clenched hands over her eyes, lying slim and rigid on her back in the darkness. When the electric lamps were lighted she rose, went to the mirror and looked steadily at herself for a long, long time. * * * * *