"Will it?" Kitty's eyes flashed. She sat up radiant, her breath quick and defiant. "I don't see," he resumed, "how you can publish it without consulting Ashe." Kitty gave a cry of protest. "No, no, _no_! Of course he'd disapprove. But then--he soon forgives a thing, if he thinks it clever. And it is clever, isn't it?--some of it. He'd laugh--and then it would be all right. _He'd_ never pay out his enemies, but he couldn't help enjoying it if some one else did--could he?" She pleaded like a child. "'No need to forgive them,'" murmured Darrell, as he rolled over on his back and put his hat over his eyes--"for you would have 'shot them all.'" Under the shelter of his hat he tried to think himself clear. What _really_ were her motives? Partly, no doubt, a childish love of excitement--partly revenge? The animus against the Parhams was clear in every page. Cliffe, too, came badly out of it--a fantastic Byronic mixture of libertine and cad. Lady Kitty had better beware! As far as he knew, Cliffe had never yet been struck, with impunity to the striker. If these precious sheets ever appeared, Ashe's position would certainly be shaken. Poor wretch!--endeavoring to pursue a serious existence, yoked to such an impish sprite as this! His own fault, after all. That first night, at Madame d'Estrées', was not her madness written in her eyes? "Now tell me, Lady Kitty"--he roused himself to look at her with some attention--"what do you want me to do?" "To find me a publisher, and"--she stooped towards him with a laughing shyness--"to get me some money." "Money!" "I've been so awfully extravagant lately," said Kitty, frankly. "Something really will have to be done. And the book's worth some money, isn't it?" "A good deal," said Darrell. Then he added, with emphasis--"I really can't be responsible for it in any way, Lady Kitty." "Of course not. I will never, _never_ say I told you! But, you see, I'm not literary--I don't know in the least how to set about it. If you would just put me in communication?" Darrell pondered. None of the well-known publishers, of course, would look at it. But there were plenty of people who would--and give Lady Kitty a large sum of money for it, too. What part, however, could he--Darrell--play in such a transaction? "I am bound to warn you," he said, at last, looking up, "that your husband will probably strongly disapprove this book, and that it may do him harm." Kitty bit her lip. "But if I tell nobody who wrote it--and you tell nobody?" "Ashe would know at once. Everybody would know." "William would know," his companion admitted, unwillingly. "But I don't see why anybody else should. You see, I've put myself in--I've said the most shocking things!" Darrell replied that she would not find that device of much service to her. "However--I can no doubt get an opinion for you." Kitty, all delight, thanked him profusely.