"Oath of a gentleman!" derided Gilmore. "You're the sort who would lie like a gentleman. Man, I tell you that I saw--her face! Helen, my wife, was afraid of you. Why was she afraid of you? Why did her face turn so pale? Why did she look as if she were fainting?" "She said," Sarbella replied smoothly, "that it was the name--that she had once known some one named Sarbella. Why couldn't that be true!" "It could be, but it isn't. Sarbella, you're hiding something from me, and I've got to have the truth." His hands were clenched, and his eyes blazed with jealousy. "Isn't it a fact that you were once in love with her?" A harsh, humorless laugh, the sort of a laugh that it is not pleasant to hear, burst through Sarbella's lips. "In love with her? Great Lord, no--a thousand times no! I----" He broke off, on the verge of saying too much, of betraying the truth in one exclamation of passionate, hot-blooded hatred. "I tell you again, Kirklan, that your wife and I never met until this very evening. That is quite all I have to say; you must take that or leave it." Sarbella paused as if he would choke on one more word. Chest heaving, lips twitching, Kirklan Gilmore leaned heavily across the table, staring into the eyes of this other man whom he had considered his friend. Suddenly he straightened and leaped toward the door, turning the key in the lock; swiftly he turned and faced Victor Sarbella. "Take it or leave it, eh?" he panted. "Suppose I won't leave it; suppose I tell you that you're not to leave this room until you tell me what I want to know? What you are hiding from me?" His voice broke. "I--I can't stand these lies, these evasions, this deceit any longer. You have given me your word that you have told the truth, that you never saw Helen before to-day. I don't know whether to believe that or not. But, if it is the truth, you know something--something about her. In Heaven's name, man, tell me! Who is she? I ask you--what is she?" Victor Sarbella shook his head slowly. "She is your wife," he answered, as if that might explain why he must keep sealed lips, but Gilmore would not have it rest that way. "Yes," he groaned, "she is my wife, but who was she, what was she before--before she became my wife? I think you know." His shoulders shook with a dry sob. "Sarbella, can't you see what this is doing to me--that it is driving me mad?" Again Sarbella's head described a sadly negative gesture. "I am sorry, Kirklan," he said; "believe me, Kirklan, I am your friend, and I am sorry, but there is nothing I can tell you. Set at rest any fears you may have had about"--his lips twitched into a bitter smile--"about any romantic attachment between us. Anything but that!" Kirklan Gilmore took a step forward; the next instant he had flung himself on Sarbella, and, although he was the less powerful man, the latter was taken off his guard and staggered back into a chair.