He was speaking rapidly now, staring directly before him at her hand, which was playing with the glass. She looked about in terror. The near tables were vacant; they were still practically isolated. In another moment it would be all over. The arrival of the second course momentarily saved her. She plied him with questions, signaling the waiter on a dozen invented pretexts whenever the conversation turned to an intimate note. But at the end of the luncheon, as if overburdened with the strain of a great secret, resolved to end the torture, he said abruptly: "Miss Baxter, it was not simply to explain I came here; I want to talk to you very seriously, on a matter that is everything in the world to--" She drew back suddenly as if frightened, and her hand, apparently by accident, coming in contact with her glass, sent it tumbling over the table, drenching the cloth, amid a clatter of cutlery. The maître d'hôtel came running immediately to her rescue, napkin in hand. "Oh, dear! how awkward I am!" she cried, in great confusion. "It's nothing--nothing!" Peavey said hastily, reproaching himself for having frightened her by the abruptness of his methods, here in a crowded restaurant. But when they had gone into the anteroom, he said quickly: "Miss Baxter, will you come into the salon here, or up-stairs? For a quarter of an hour--a few moments, just a second--I must speak to you. Now--at once--please!" There was no escape; she resigned herself to following him. But as she entered the green-and-gold desert where intimacy could no longer be avoided, she thought to herself: "Oh, dear! If I had only knocked it over my dress I could have gone right home!" In twenty minutes it was all over, and very red, very quiet, he had conducted her to his car and sent her off. "I'm sorry!" she said, distressed at his pathetic figure. "Such things can't be helped!" he said, with a closing of the jaws. "But let's be friends, can't you? Just now--I'm so young still--later--Please let's be friends, Mr. Peavey!" He shook his head. "I'm afraid--that's too hard, and--I don't think you'll ever change!" "I have been honest!" she said sadly--which was true, in a measure. "Very!" He shook her hand with an exaggerated bow, signaled the chauffeur and went back. All at once she had a feeling of utter loneliness and abandonment. He had been something so secure in her life, so dependable. To give him up was more of a wrench than she had imagined. It brought her a curious sense of peril. Would he wait, as she had suggested, or would this be the end, the last glimpse she would have of this strong, solitary, devoted soul? She jumped out hastily at Miss Pim's, and then stopped to consider. "Want me this evening?" said Brennon, watching her attentively. "I don't know--yes--I'll telephone." "Everything all right?" he asked slyly. "What do you mean?" she said, frowning and surprised.