"I'm so sorry. I can't marry you, Breck. I can't." "Why not? Why can't you? What's your game? What do you want of me? Don't beat around. I'm serious. What do you mean 'you can't?'" "I'm sorry, but I don't care enough for you, Breck. I wish I did, but I just don't." "Oh, you don't! That's it. Well, look here, don't let that worry you. I'll make you care for me. I'll attend to that. Do you understand?" And suddenly he put his arms about me. "I'll marry you and make you care," he murmured. I felt my hot cheek pressed against his rough coat, and smelled again the old familiar smell of tobacco, mixed with the queer eastern perfume which Breck's valet always put a little of on his master's handkerchief. "You've got to marry me. You're helpless to do anything else--as helpless as you are now to get away from me when I want to hold you. I'm crazy about you, and I shall have you some day too. If it's ceremony you want, it's yours. Oh, you're mine--_mine_, little private secretary. Do you hear me? You're mine. Sooner or later you're mine." He let me go at last. I went over to a mirror and fixed my hair. "I wish you hadn't done that," I said, and rang for Perkins. He came creaking in, in his squeaky boots. "Perkins," I said, "will you call a taxi for me? I'm not staying with Mrs. Sewall now that she has her son here. Please tell her that I am going to Esther's." "I shall see that you get there safely," warned Breck. "I've rights while you're under this roof." "It isn't necessary, Breck. I often walk. I'm used to going about alone. But do as you please. However, if you do come, I'm going to ask you not to treat me as if--as if--as you just did. I've given all that to somebody else." "Somebody else," he echoed. "Yes," I nodded. "Yes, Breck; yes--somebody else." "Oh!" he said. "Oh!" and stared at me. I could see it hit him. "I'll go and put my things on," I explained, and went away. When I came back he was standing just where I had left him. Something moved me to go up and speak to him. I had never seen Breckenridge Sewall look like this. "Good-night, Breck," I said. "I'm sorry." "You! Sorry!" he laughed horribly. Then he added, "This isn't the last chapter--not by a long shot. You can go alone tonight--but remember--this isn't the last chapter." I rode away feeling a little uneasy. I longed to talk to some one. What did he mean? What did he threaten? If only Esther--but no, we had never been personal. She knew as little about the circumstances of my life as I about hers. She could not help me. Anyway it proved upon my arrival at the rooms in Irving Place that Esther was not there.