"If you don't now, you will love me!" he said immovably. "Come, this must be ended! You're almost crazy now! You can't think or act! I'll take all responsibilities!" He strode up to her, the coat in his hands, holding it out as she still shrank away. "Oh, Garry! It isn't right! I haven't any strength left. I don't know anything! I'm not myself--no, I'm not myself! Be generous!" "What are you afraid of? Of not loving me?" he cried. "Yes--yes! Of not--of not--" She caught her voice and cried: "Oh, Garry! I am not worthy of you! I'm a vain, foolish, wild creature! You don't know me--how wicked I am! But I won't harm you! I wouldn't be unjust! Please! Please!" She was struggling now, with a yielding strength. He caught her arms and drew her coat over them. "Dodo, dear, I know! Believe me, I know!" "But to-morrow?" "No, now! Come! I'll take all responsibility!" Abruptly, stridently, the telephone rang, and with it the booming notes of seven o'clock. She gave a cry, frantic, remembering Massingale. "No, no! Never! Not to-night! I will not!" He stepped between her and the still ringing telephone. "You shan't answer! You shall come with me!" "No! For your sake, Garry, for your sake, I tell you!" she cried, her extended hands shaking with the intensity of her pleading. Massingale and the self she could not trust terrified her. No; she could never come to him with this fear of what another man had awakened in her veins. The telephone ceased. She had torn off her coat. He came quietly to her, unflinching in his resolve. "Dodo, did you understand me, dear?" he said gently. "I will take all responsibilities!" "You don't know what that means!" she said hoarsely. "I do know!" At this moment she saw Snyder in the corner, kneeling, her hands clasped above her head. A sudden flood of tears came to her. He drew the coat once more about her, his voice, too, shaken: "Your hat now!" She obeyed, reaching out her hand, holding it. "Garry, I haven't the right!" she said brokenly. "If--if I weren't so weak! If--if--" "Put it on!" he said. "Oh, Garry! What will happen?" she said heavily. "Promise, whatever happens--forgive--" She could not finish; her voice became inarticulate. And blindly obeying the touch of his fingers, she put on her hat, grotesquely turned about. The next moment his arm was about her, seeming to lift her from the ground. At the door, again the telephone burst out. She shrank back, afraid to pass it, seeing an omen. "Come!" he said obstinately. His arm tightened about her body, not to be denied. Her head buried against his shoulder, her hands clutching his coat, they swept out of the room, down-stairs and bravely into the pattering gusty night. Up-stairs the telephone continued to ring a long time, clamoring and insistent. And for a long time the figure of Snyder remained kneeling and tense and motionless. * * * * *