Graham, whose nature and character were as much like those of Belle as though they were twins, caught her mental attitude as she stood struggling between pride and a desire to tell the truth. It was as plain to him as though she had already confessed that Kenyon had done something which had shaken her belief in him. His photograph, which had dominated her room, had been put away. Her eyes were red and swollen. All his sympathy was stirred. At the same time he rejoiced in the eager thought that he had it in his power to clear Kenyon finally out of her mind. He set to work quietly. "I'm going to tell you about Peter," he said. She turned quickly. "Peter? There's nothing wrong with Peter, is there?" "God knows how much wrong there is. I'm going to tell you all I know. We're all in this,--through Kenyon, and because we've been thoughtless fools running amuck through life." The idea of there being anything wrong with Peter brought Belle quickly out of self-analysis and the self-indulgence of her own pain. "Don't beat about the bush," she said. "Please tell me. You told mother this morning that he had stayed with Nicholas last night." "That was a lie. This is what happened. After a rotten day worrying about an upset with Betty, he went to see Kenyon late last night. He'd had nothing to eat. I believe because Kenyon had been disappointed about something earlier in the evening,--but I only make a guess at that from the way he looked when I saw him to-day,--he deliberately took it out on Peter." "On Peter? How?" Belle understood this disappointment only too well. "He made him drunk." "Drunk!--Peter!" "Dead drunk,--by doping him with a fearful mixture of all the drinks he had. He had always threatened to do it, and this time he caught Peter napping. That was a foul enough thing to do anyway, but it didn't satisfy him. He got him into the street and instead of putting him into a cab and sending him home he called a passing woman----" "Oh, no!" cried Belle. "Yes,--and gave Peter over to her and there he's been, in her bed, in a little hole of an apartment, ill and poisoned, ever since." "Oh, my God!" cried Belle. "The woman rang me up early this morning and I got Ralph Harding to go and see what he could do. I've been there most of the day,--except for ten minutes with Kenyon--the best ten minutes I ever put in--ever." He got up and stood looking at Belle with a gleam of such intense satisfaction in his eyes that she guessed what he had done.