Jackson rose with a loud laugh. "Evidently I am _de trop_," he said with heavy sarcasm. He held out a swollen hand which van Heerden ignored. "Farewell, mademoiselle." He thrust the hand forward, so that she could not miss it. She took it, a cold flabby thing which sent a shudder of loathing through her frame, and raised her face to his for the first time. He let the hand drop. He was staring at her with open mouth and features distorted with horror. "You!" he croaked. She shrunk back against the wall of the alcove, but he made no movement. She sensed the terror and agony in his voice. "You!" he gasped. "Mary!" "Hang you! Go!" roared van Heerden, and thrust him back. But though he staggered back a pace under the weight of the other's arm, his eyes did not leave the girl's face, and she, fascinated by the appeal in the face of the wreck, could not turn hers away. "Mary!" he whispered, "what is your other name?" With an effort the girl recovered herself. "My name is not Mary," she said quietly. "My name is Oliva Cresswell." "Oliva Cresswell," he repeated. "Oliva Cresswell!" He made a movement toward her but van Heerden barred his way. She heard Jackson say something in a strangled voice and heard van Heerden's sharp "What!" and there was a fierce exchange of words. The attention of the few people in the palm-court had been attracted to the unusual spectacle of two men engaged in what appeared to be a struggle. "Sit down, sit down, you fool! Sit over there. I will come to you in a minute. Can you swear what you say is true?" Jackson nodded. He was shaking from head to foot. "My name is Predeaux," he said; "that is my daughter--I married in the name of Cresswell. My daughter," he repeated. "How wonderful!" "What are you going to do?" asked van Heerden. He had half-led, half-pushed the other to a chair near one of the pillars of the rotunda. "I am going to tell her," said the wreck. "What are you doing with her?" he demanded fiercely. "That is no business of yours," replied van Heerden sharply. "No business of mine, eh! I'll show you it's some business of mine. I am going to tell her all I know about you. I have been a rotter and worse than a rotter." The old flippancy had gone and the harsh voice was vibrant with purpose. "My path has been littered with the wrecks of human lives," he said bitterly, "and they are mostly women. I broke the heart of the best woman in the world, and I am going to see that you don't break the heart of her daughter." "Will you be quiet?" hissed van Heerden. "I will go and get her away and then I will come back to you." Jackson did not reply. He sat huddled up in his chair, muttering to himself, and van Heerden walked quickly back to the girl. "I am afraid I shall have to let you go back by yourself. He is having one of his fits. I think it is delirium tremens."