The genial man went on, “I’ve got a memorandum, here. All Mr. Walling’s got to do is sign it. I’ll read it. N’York City, November eighteenth, nineteen hundred nineteen. My dear Miss Boyle, In pursuance of our agreement I promise you that ‘Todgers Intrudes’ will be presented in New York City before January first, nineteen twenty and that Mr. Rand will be featured in the usual manner. Yours very truly.--All he has to do is to put his name to that and there you are.” Gurdy hated this fellow. He rubbed a foot on the carpet and sighed, then asked, “What’s the good of this? It’s a bad play. It’ll fail. Why does Miss Boyle want this?” “Don’t ask me. Yes, I hear it’s a bum show. I guess she wants her husban’ featured. I don’t know.” “If Mark--if Mr. Walling won’t sign this?” “Then Miss Boyle’ll bring her action in the morning. There’s no defence, either, Mr. Bernamer. Miss Boyle’s got a written statement from Mr. Rand and testimony from his valet.” Gurdy was sick, now. An unconquerable tremor made the muscles of his back rigid. It was a trap. Margot was caught in a trap. He said, “Blackmail.” “No. Miss Boyle’s foregoin’ a legal right to bring her action. She ain’t askin’ a cent of money. There’s lots of ladies wouldn’t be so easy to settle with. Better see what Mr. Walling says, hadn’t you?” For a second Gurdy stood hopeless. Then he said, “It’s a dirty trick,” and took the paper. But he should keep cool. He smiled and inquired, “You say you’ve got a written statement from Mr. Rand--” “Got a copy with me. Like to read it?” Gurdy glanced at the transparent typed sheet. He shook his head and walked up stairs. Mark picked up the note as Gurdy dropped it on the blue quilt, read it frowning. Then he flushed and his mouth contracted hideously. He whispered, “Old trick! Happens all the time. I ought to have known what’d happen.... Gimme a pen, sonny.” He signed his full name, Mark Henderson Walling. There couldn’t be any more pain, after this. He shut his eyes and fell through warm darkness. He could not sleep but he must rest. He slept. When Gurdy came back into the bedroom, Mark was slowly breathing, sound asleep. The boy made the place dark and went up to his own room. In the upper black of the hall some one caught his arm. Olive followed him and shut the door. She had cast a black fur cloak over her night dress and her grey hair was loose. She looked at the boy without a word, leaning on the door. “Blackmail. She sent her lawyer. She’s got a confession from Rand. Mark’s signed an agreement. He’ll bring that play into New York and she’ll live with Rand as soon as it opens.” “Ah!... Oh, the cad!... Oh, Gurdy, take care of Mark!” She walked down the hall. Gurdy followed her and heard her pity crash into miserable sobs behind her door. He stood listening for a while then raised his arm and pressed it against his mouth. XI The Walling