“I'd thought of that,” said she reflectively. Presently she added: “Then, it is true.” And I knew Sammy had given her some hint that prepared her for my confession. “Yes--I can't go blustering through the matrimonial market,” replied I. “I've been thrown out. I'm a beggar at the gates.” “A beggar at the gates,” she murmured. I got up and stood looking down at her. “Don't _pity_ me!” I said. “My remark was a figure of speech. I want no alms. I wouldn't take even you as alms. They'll probably get me down, and stamp the life out of me--nearly. But not quite--don't you lose sight of that. They can't kill me, and they can't tame me. I'll recover, and I'll strew the Street with their blood and broken bones.” She drew in her breath sharply. “And a minute ago I was almost liking you!” she exclaimed. I retreated to my chair and gave her a smile that must have been grim. “Your ideas of life and of men are like a cloistered nun's,” said I. “If there are any real men among your acquaintances, you may find out some day that they're not so much like lapdogs as they pretend--and that you wouldn't like them, if they were.” “What--just what--happened to you down town to-day--after you left me?” “A friend of mine has been luring me into a trap--why, I can't quite fathom. To-day he sprang the trap and ran away.” “A friend of yours?” “The man we were talking about--your ex-god--Langdon.” “Langdon,” she repeated, and her tone told me that Sammy knew and had hinted to her more than I suspected him of knowing. And, with her arms still folded, she paced up and down the room. I watched her slender feet in pale blue slippers appear and disappear--first one, then the other--at the edge of her trailing skirt. Presently she stopped in front of me. Her eyes were gazing past me. “You are sure it was he?” she asked. I could not answer immediately, so amazed was I at her expression. I had been regarding her as a being above and apart, an incarnation of youth and innocence; with a shock it now came to me that she was experienced, intelligent, that she understood the whole of life, the dark as fully as the light, and that she was capable to live it, too. It was not a girl that was questioning me there; it was a woman. “Yes--Langdon,” I replied. “But I've no quarrel with him. My reverse is nothing but the fortune of war. I assure you, when I see him again, I'll be as friendly as ever--only a bit less of a trusting ass, I fancy. We're a lot of free lances down in the Street. We fight now on one side, now on the other. We change sides whenever it's expedient; and under the code it's not necessary to give warning. To-day, before I knew he was the assassin, I had made my plans to try to save myself at his expense, though I believed him to be the best friend I had down town. No doubt he's got some good reason for creeping up on me in the dark.” “You are sure it was he?” she repeated.