He looked up at her quickly. Something in the tone of her voice warned him that there was a scene coming, and he hated scenes. But he could not resist inquiring sarcastically: "Is that all I've got--just your time?" "That and--the rest," she replied bitterly. Looking at her curiously, he said: "Down in the mouth, eh? I'm sorry." "No," she retorted, her mouth quivering at the corners; "only, if you want me to be frank, I'm a little tired. You may not believe it, but I work awfully hard over at the theatre. Burgess will tell you that. I know I'm not so very good as an actress, but I try to be. I'd like to succeed myself. They're very patient with me. Of course, they've got to be--that's another thing you're paying for; but I don't seem to get along except this way." Brockton shrugged his shoulders impatiently. "Oh, don't get sentimental," he said testily. "If you're going to bring up that sort of talk, Laura, do it some time when I haven't got a hang-over, and then, don't forget, talk never does count for much." Rising and going to the mirror, Laura picked up a hat from a box, put it on, and looked at herself in the mirror. She turned around and looked at her companion steadfastly for a moment without speaking. It was on the tip of her tongue to tell him the truth there and then, tell him she had lied about mailing the letter to Madison, and that she had been miserable ever since; tell him that this rotten, artificial life disgusted and degraded her, that she was sick of it and of him. But she had not the courage. Meantime, Brockton, left to himself, went on perusing the paper more carefully. Suddenly he stopped and looked at his watch. "What time is it?" inquired Laura. "After ten." "Aren't you ever going out?" she demanded crossly. Deeply engrossed in his paper, the broker made no answer. His eye had just been attracted to an item which particularly interested him. It was a despatch from Chicago, and read as follows: "A story has reached here of an extraordinary gold find just made in Nevada by two lucky prospectors. The men set out from Goldfield several weeks ago, and got lost in the mountains. After enduring terrible privations, and almost perishing in the blizzard, they were found in last extremity by a party of hunters. They had actually discovered gold, having accidentally stumbled on one of the richest ore deposits in the gold region. A nugget of enormous size was brought in by the rescuing party in support of their well-nigh incredible story. The prospectors quickly recovered from their terrible experience, and one of them, named John Madison, is now on his way East for the purpose of organizing a syndicate which will begin at once large operations in the Nevada gold fields. Rumor has it that Mr. Madison will also bring back a bride."