Orr said as much to Sylvia, but apparently his views did not seem to her very novel. It became obvious to him that she had thought it all out for herself. "Besides," she presently and irrelevantly continued, "I am to blame. If I had not been stupid with him, there would have been nothing to threaten about." That, Orr thought, was rather putting the dots on the i's. But he did not mind. He was pleased with her. His respect for her had increased. Had she been the kind of a cousin to permit such a thing there and then he would have kissed her. Yet some reward he felt was her due. As a result the interview which she asked he presently arranged. Under conditions which to her were as tragic as they were humiliating she saw Annandale in the visitors' room at the Tombs. The room itself was not absolutely appalling, and though there was a keeper present, he was quite out of earshot, very oblivious, extremely civil and, parenthetically, handsomely paid. Orr awaited her at the door. When she rejoined him her eyes were wet. Orr looked at her. A little tune occurred to him. "Sylvia, Sylvia, I'm a-thinking--" But after all, he reflected, Fanny is dead. Instantly the girl reddened and very distantly, her head in the air, announced, "We are betrothed." "Ah," said Orr, "ah, indeed! The engagement will be rather long, I fear." "Oh, Melanchthon, don't say that. Arthur is as innocent as you are. I know you don't believe it, but----" Orr interrupted her. "It is not a question of what I believe. Independent of your interest in the man he is my client. I owe him a duty. That duty is to get him off, or to do my best to." "I know you will," Sylvia fervently replied; "I feel it. So does Arthur. Besides, the only one we have to fear is Harris." Orr smiled grimly. "Harris, I understand, is not very well." "Not well? What do you mean?" the girl wonderingly inquired. "I mean," he enigmatically answered, "that next week when I have him on the stand I propose to give him a little medicine." Then he smiled again, grimly as before, with an air of personal satisfaction. CHAPTER VIII THE DEFENDANT TO THE BAR "Hats off!" Through the great white room the cry vibrated, followed instantly by another: "Hear ye, hear ye, all ye having business with the Court of the General Sessions of the City and County of New York, draw near, give attention and ye shall be heard."