The end of it was as abrupt as the beginning. In the midst of another wrestling bout the beaten one freed himself, bounded to his feet, and darted into the corridor with Jeffard at his heels. There was a sharp scurry of racing feet in the hall, a prolonged crash as of a heavy body falling down the stair, and Jeffard was back again, panting with the violence of it, but with eyes alight and an apology on his lips. Constance ran to meet him and cut the apology short. "The idea!" she protested; "when it was for Margaret's sake and mine! Are you sure you're not hurt?" Jeffard's knuckles were cut and bleeding, but he kept that hand behind him. "It's the other fellow who is hurt, I hope." Then to Margaret: "Do you know him? Are you afraid of him?" Margaret glanced at Constance and hesitated. "He'll not be troubling me any more, I'm thinking. It's Pete Grim that sent him; and he was at me before I knew." Jeffard picked up the captured weapon and put it on the sewing-machine. "Take that to him if he comes again when you are alone. Miss Elliott, please stay here a moment until I can go down and see that the way is clear." He was gone at the word, but he had barely reached the window with the dusty embrasure when she overtook him. There was a sweet shyness in her manner now, and he trembled as he had not in any stage of the late encounter. "Mr. Jeffard," she began, "will you forgive me if I say that you have disproved all the hard things you were trying to say of yourself? You'll let me wire Dick, now, won't you?" He shook his head because he was afraid to trust himself to speak. As between an abject appeal with his hopeless passion for its motive, and a plunge back into the abyss of degradation which would efface the temptation, there was nothing to choose. "You will at least promise me that you will consider it," she went on. "I can't ask less." If he did not reply immediately it was because he was trying to fix her image so that he should always be able to think of her just as she stood, with the afternoon sunlight falling upon her face, irradiating it and making a shimmering halo of the red-brown hair and deep wells of the clear gray eyes. A vagrant thought came to him: that it was worth a descent into the nether depths to have such a woman seek him out and plead with him for his soul's sake. He put it aside to deny her entreaty. "I can't promise even that." She was silent for a moment, and embarrassment came back and fought for holding-ground when she tried to bring herself to do the thing which compassion suggested. But compassion won; and Jeffard looked on with a half-cynical smile when she took a gold coin from her purse and offered it to him. "Just for the present," she begged, with a beseeching look which might have melted a worse man. He took the money, and the smile ended in an unpleasant laugh.