"Did he know that you had lost?" asked McKenna slowly. "No," she said with a smile, "he never knew. Not that he would not have made it up—in his way. It is a game he must have played many times." She went to a writing-desk and, unlocking a drawer, brought out a note. "When I told you he gave me this ring with an offer of marriage," she said, returning, "that was not true. He had no thought of marriage then—far from it. He offered me the ring and I refused it, knowing that he did so only to try my weakness. Also, he wanted to find out what I knew of Majendie and the Atlantic Trust. When he left he sent it back with this note. Read it." McKenna took the sheet, smoothing out the wrinkles, and held it up. DEAR LADY: Apologies for my rudeness. If you won’t accept a gift, at least wear the ring for a week. I should like to know what effect it could have on your cold little soul. Oblige my curiosity. It’s only a little reparation for the disappointment I gave you. J.G.S. Mrs. Kildair took the note again and returning to the desk locked it in the drawer. "This, then, was my situation the night of the party. I had lost two thirds of what I had. I was absolutely resolved to play everything I possessed on one last gamble. I need not remind you of the financial situation at that time. I knew Majendie and I knew Slade. Furthermore, I knew Mrs. Bloodgood. The problem was this—if Majendie was to be supported and the Atlantic Trust to be upheld, there would probably be no panic. If Majendie failed, I knew there would be a tremendous break in stocks—a killing for those who knew what was coming. That night everything depended on my solving Majendie’s fate. I did and I won. It was a guess, but a guess such as you understand. I have known too many men not to know how a true man acts under such circumstances. He came from the meeting that had condemned him, and the first moment he greeted Mrs. Bloodgood, I was sure that he was lost. Later, as he bowed ironically to something I had said, I saw in the gaping of his pocket something that gave me another clue—a slight thing, but which had a lot to do with what followed—just an edge of a green folder." "A folder?" said McKenna, perplexed. "Yes, a folder that I thought might be a railroad time-table," she said, nodding. "I knew, of course, of Mrs. Bloodgood’s infatuation. I had her confidence. I knew that she had started to procure a divorce. I likewise knew how often she had begged Majendie to elope with her. Furthermore, almost every one there that night was watching Majendie for the same purpose—all who were speculating; Mr. and Mrs. Cheever, Bloodgood, Garraboy, Maud Lille, Slade—who came in late, quite unexpected—were there on the same errand." "Yes, that I understood," said McKenna.