The vultures Mrs Jula had spoken of occurred to her, all those vultures with their white fronts and black dress suits, who were waiting to snatch her to themselves with their moneyed claws the instant her friend and protector abandoned her. From them her thoughts flitted to those other vultures in Kellermann's picture, who perched on the sunburnt rocks ready to pounce on the naked beauty when she should lose the strength to defend herself. "Her chains are her weapons," thought Lilly. "And that's the way it is with me. If I am set free, I am lost." The next day she and Richard carefully avoided the dangerous topic, though Richard remained distraught and uneasy. Finally Lilly took courage, and though her feelings compressed her throat like a murderous clutch, she said: "I see you haven't come to a decision yet, Richard. Wouldn't you like to bring me her picture, so that I can see what she is like? No one knows you so well as I do, and no one will know so well whether she suits you or not." Richard violently denied that he was undecided. What did _he_ care for that doll of a girl? But his resentment was disingenuous, and his eyes stared into vacancy. She had five millions. And the next day he actually brought the photograph. Lilly laid it down without unwrapping it. Mere contact with the picture made her hands tremble. She feared the first sight of the girl's face would expose her own great distress. "Why, you're not even looking at it," said Richard, with some disappointment in his tone. "Time enough after you've gone," said Lilly, rejoiced that she could smile so indifferently. She called to him when he was out in the hall: "I'll tell you to-morrow--you'll know then." The next instant she caught up the picture. Her heart knocked at her ribs. But first she had to wave "good-by" to Richard, as was her habit and duty. And then--and then-- A girl's face, good, placid, somewhat peaked, with poor, though amiable eyes. Her blond hair was plaited country fashion, and the heavy braids, thick as a woman's wrist, drew her head back a bit. A timid smile played about her full lips. Something just to be loved, something which would revive with happiness as a spray of lilacs in fresh water. Not turbulent, none too gifted--wifely and yielding. Just what Richard needed. Lilly placed the picture on a chair and threw herself on her knees in front of it. She prayed and wrestled with her soul. She had to reiterate again and again: "Just what he needs. He won't have another such chance." And the five millions! If she were not to set him free she would be one of those harpies which Mrs. Jula said the world of respectability considered her and her like to be. "But I am in possession, therefore mine is the right. What good are her five millions to me, if I go to ruin on account of them? Why need I sacrifice myself for him, for him or for anybody in the wide world?" "Harpy, harpy!" rang in between.