"Are you afraid?" taunted Amy. "My dear, the bravest man has to exercise ordinary prudence or the days of his bravery would be few!" "Mr. Parr saved your life twice last night." "Another time he might not be so fortunate." "Francisco, I pledge you my word that no harm will come to you while you are there, and that you will be allowed to go as freely as you come." De Socotra looked at Greg. "I add my word to Miss Wilmot's," said Greg stiffly. "Moreover there is no objection to your bringing any friend or friends with you, as many as you like." "But if I still feel obliged to decline this charming invitation?" said de Socotra mockingly. "You will not decline it," said Amy. "Why will I not?" "Because in that case I will be obliged to tell mamma the whole truth about what has happened. I am taking all this trouble for the sake of sparing her. If you will not help me in that, then affairs must take their course regardless." "What affairs?" asked de Socotra with a great parade of innocence. "What is the use of making pretenses among us three? We know, and you know that we know." "But no one else knows," was the smiling reply. "And there is no proof in existence." "You don't know what proof we have. Come to Mrs. Bickle's house and we will lay our case before you. You can then decide whether or not you care to accept the conditions that we lay down." De Socotra hesitated. Bravado and simple curiosity struggled with the man's sense of prudence. Above all he was a gamester. "When do you want me to come?" "It is four now. We will expect you between five and six." "Very well, I'll be there." Upon the stroke of half-past five de Socotra drove up to Bessie Bickle's in a taxi-cab. He bade the man wait. Amy and Greg met him at the front door. He came alone. "You are a bold man, Francisco," said Amy. Amy had changed to a black dress which set off the unrelieved pallor of her skin like alabaster. The little creature now had a consecrated air like a priestess that added inches to her stature. Greg, who was wretchedly ill at ease, regarded her with a kind of awe. She was the leader now. A strange hush brooded over the little house. The shutters of the store were up. Amy led the way up-stairs. De Socotra, notwithstanding his pretended assurance, was impressed by the change in her dress and manner. All the way up he talked lightly to conceal his uneasiness. "What an odd retreat you have chosen! I thought we should never get here. My chauffeur had never heard of Gibbon Street, nor any one else for that matter. What shocking streets we came through. Picturesque though, if one cares for that sort of thing." No one paid the slightest attention to this babble. At the head of the stairs Amy opened the door of Bessie's bedroom and passed in. De Socotra was still talking as he followed her. Greg was behind him. "Houston Street reminded me of Rome, Rome in Juvenal's day with its----"