They entered the office that Violet just recalled as having visited with Dyker in her fever-dream. At a desk, covered with neatly arranged piles of papers sat the young assistant, who, having then seen her red with illness, and now seeing her still white from its recovery, might well suppose that their first meeting was the result of drunken malice. "Here she ees," smiled Angel, "like I promise. She ees a gooda girl now, an' sorry she tell you da deeferent story an' maka trouble." Angelelli had told Violet the truth: the young man was indeed used to such things--so used to them that he knew protest was fruitless and that his inquiry must be formal. "You want to withdraw your deposition?" he asked. He was a kindly young man with a thin face. "Do I what?" asked Violet. "He means----" began Angel. "I mean," interrupted the lawyer, "do you want to take back the story you told me about Rose Légère? This case is on the calendar for to-morrow, so if you mean to take back what you said, you had better do it now." "It won't get me into no trouble?" The young man raised his eyebrows. "What would be the use?" he inquired. "No, it won't get you into any trouble." "Then I'll take it back," said Violet. "You'll have to be sworn, you know." "She don' minda that," said Angel. "Do you, Violet?" The girl shook her head, and a clerk was called and administered an oath so rapidly that Violet could understand no word of it. "You're doing this of your own free will--just because you want to?" resumed the lawyer, donning his professional air, and seeming to become infected with the clerk's rapidity of utterance. "You are not swayed by any promise of pecuniary reward--that is because you're paid for it? And there has been no force or threat used to compel you to do it--I mean you haven't been told you'd be hurt if you backed down?" Violet bowed in token of a desire to answer these questions in whatever way was necessary to her bargain, and the new deposition proceeded in the same manner and along the lines that Angel had laid down. The clerk hurried because he wanted to get home; the lawyer hurried because he thoroughly disbelieved every word that was written; and, severe as Violet had feared that the ordeal would be, it was over far sooner than she had expected. Angel, still loyal to his word, saw her safely home. "Now," he said, as he left her at the areaway, "nobody weell ever any more bother you. Good-night." He raised his hat and went away, but, as he turned, he pressed into her cold hand a crisp, new bill. Violet's fingers closed about it silently. She had earned it. XIX "FIAT JUSTITIA RUAT CAELUM"