"Get me out!" cried Alicia distractedly. "My God! I can't go to prison! I can't! That's too much. I've done nothing! Look--read this!" Handing over Underwood's letter, she went on: "You can see for yourself. The wretch frightened me into such a state of mind that I hardly knew what I was doing--I went to his rooms to save him. That's the truth, I swear to God! But do you suppose anybody will believe me on oath? They'll--they'll----" Almost hysterical, she no longer knew what she was saying or doing. She collapsed utterly, and sinking down in a chair, gave way to a passionate fit of sobbing. Annie tried to quiet her: "Hush!" she said gently, "don't go on like that. Be brave. Perhaps it won't be so bad as you think." She unfolded the letter Alicia had given her and carefully read it through. When she had finished her face lit up with joy. Enthusiastically she cried: "This is great for Howard! What a blessing you didn't destroy it! What a wretch, what a hound to write you like that! Poor soul, of course, you went and begged him not to do it! I'd have gone myself, but I think I'd have broken an umbrella over his head or something----Gee! these kind of fellows breed trouble, don't they? Alive or dead, they breed trouble! What can we do?" Alicia rose. Her tears had disappeared. There was a look of fixed resolve in her eyes. "Howard must be cleared," she said, "and I must face it--alone!" "You'll be alone all right," said Annie thoughtfully. "Mr. Jeffries will do as much for you as he did for his son." Noticing that her companion seemed hurt by her frankness, she changed the topic. "Honest to God!" she exclaimed, good-naturedly, "I'm broken-hearted--I'll do anything to save you from this--this public disgrace. I know what it means--I've had my dose of it. But this thing has got to come out, hasn't it?" The banker's wife wearily nodded assent. "Yes, I realize that," she said, "but the disgrace of arrest--I can't stand it, Annie! I can't go to prison even if it's only for a minute." Holding out a trembling hand, she went on: "Give me back the letter. I'll leave New York to-night--I'll go to Europe--I'll send it to Judge Brewster from Paris." Looking anxiously into her companion's face, she pleaded: "You'll trust me to do that, won't you? Give it to me, please--you can trust me." Her hand was still extended, but Annie ignored it. "No--no," she said, shaking her head, "I can't give it to you--how can I? Don't you understand what the letter means to me?" "Have pity!" cried the banker's wife, almost beside herself. "You can tell them when I'm out of the country. Don't ask me to make this sacrifice now--don't ask me--don't!" Annie was beginning to lose patience. The woman's selfishness angered her. With irritation, she said: "You've lost your nerve, and you don't know what you're saying. Howard's life comes before you--me--or anybody. You know that!"