"It means that she's got to report at the municipal criminal court," Mr. Weston instructed her; "and so have you and Laura, unless I can patch things up." "Good!" Fred said, eagerly, "I wanted to know the end of this silly business!" She got into the limousine, where Laura, still very white, had been placed by Howard, who put an unabashed arm about her. His impatience at Fred's delay was obvious. "Mr. Weston! for the Lord's sake, shut her up!" he said, angrily. Frederica, sitting down beside him, gave him an astonished look. "It was I who was talking, not Catalina," she explained; "I was telling her what to do. Of course I couldn't go away and leave her to shift for herself. Howard, this has been a great experience!" Howard's jaw set: "Laura, dear," he whispered, "it's all right. Don't shake so, Kitty! It's all right. Mr. Weston will fix it up so you needn't go to court." "You see," Fred began, volubly, "it all happened because of the policeman's rudeness to that poor little Catalina; Laura and I had to protect her, and--" "Look here"--Howard turned a fierce face upon her--"you can make a fool of yourself, all you want to, but I'll thank you not to drag my wife into your damned nonsense!" Frederica stared at him, open-mouthed. "Maitland," the other man said, gravely, "I am sure you will apologize for that." Howard's hand clenched over his little Laura's; he swallowed, and set his teeth. "If I have been rude, I apologize. But the fact remains; Fred ought not to have dragged Laura into any such disgusting and indecent business!" "Oh, Howard!" Laura protested; "she didn't. I did it myself. It wasn't Fred's fault." Frederica was silent, but Weston saw her face fall into lines of haggard amazement. As they went spinning along back to town, Howard gave himself up to whispering to Laura. Arthur Weston asked one or two questions, and Frederica told him, briefly, just what had caused the disturbance that ended in the "interesting experience." For the most part no one spoke. At the Maitland house, Howard almost lifted his little wife out of the car; he was quivering with pain at her pain--at the thought that her ears had heard the moans of Life, that her eyes had seen its filth and horror; he was so angry at Frederica that he could not trust himself even to look at her. Of course he made no farewells. He closed the door of the limousine with a bang, and said, through the open window: "Mr. Weston, do anything, _any_thing! so that Laura won't be dragged into it. Any amount of money, of course! And the newspapers--good Lord! Can we fix them?" "I'll see what can be done," Weston said; and the car spun away. Frederica turned a bewildered face upon him. She stammered a little: "He didn't"--her voice fell to an astonished whisper--"_understand_."