"Um--such trust companies as the Interstate and Tri-State." He paused a moment, and then added: "With such a man as Giles Ilingsworth handling the reins----" "Giles Ilingsworth!" she broke in. "Who is Giles Ilingsworth? Why, I never heard of him." Flomerfelt looked at her in well-feigned astonishment. "You never heard of Giles Ilingsworth! He was the power behind the throne--the man who wrecked the companies--who did more, who wrecked Peter V. Wilkinson." He made a movement to go. "There is nothing further I can do for you, I suppose, Mrs. Peter V.----?" For the briefest of moments the lady gazed at him in silent contemplation. Then motioning him again to sit beside her,--which he did,--she drew his head down close to her lips, and patted it affectionately. "Flomerfelt, you're a good friend of mine?" she said. Wilkinson's confidential man straightened up. "That depends on how good a friend you are of mine," he answered, looking her full in the face. The eyes of Margaret Lane Wilkinson narrowed. "You do your best to see that I don't come out at the little end of the horn, Flomerfelt--take care of my interests, even against----" "Even against Peter V. Wilkinson," breathed Flomerfelt. "Even against Peter V. Wilkinson," breathed the woman. There was a pause, and presently she added: "On every occasion, no matter what the question, I shall agree with you." "You forget to take into consideration that there's a girl named Leslie Wilkinson, who----" She stopped him with a concluding gesture. "No, not for one moment have I forgotten her," she affirmed. "If the worst comes to the worst, Leslie has enough to keep us both." Flomerfelt bent over her. "It's a bargain," he announced. "We'll seal it with a kiss." "Why, Mr. Flomerfelt, I never have kissed anybody except Peter V.," she simpered, blushing all the while. "I couldn't help it," he told her on leaving, and passing through the door, closed it gently behind him. On the second landing he stopped and thought a while. "Not a bad scheme, that scheme of hers," he mused to himself. "She doesn't altogether realise that if the time ever comes when we fight Wilkinson, she and I, that we will be fighting a man still worth a hundred million dollars. At any rate," he concluded, "my game is first to fight for Wilkinson, and then--against him." Meanwhile, in her boudoir, the lady had hastened to the mirror to contemplate her fairness. "He's not such a bad chap, after all, that Flomerfelt," she acknowledged to herself. IV