She had followed him with tensest interest, and indignation's flame in cheek and eye had grown higher and higher. "Do you mean to say," she demanded, slowly, "that any man would do such a thing as that?" "Yes--and a most respected citizen." "It was heartless!" she burst out hotly. "That man would do anything!" It filled David with grim joy to hear her pass such judgment upon her own father. At that moment he was untroubled by a single thought as to whether he had acted honourably to betray her into pronouncing judgment. "That man should be exposed!" she went on. "Honourable business men should ostracise him. Won't you tell me his name? Perhaps my father can do something." An ironic laugh leaped into David's throat. He checked it. "No, I cannot tell his name." Her indignation against the destroyer gave way to sympathy for the destroyed. She saw Rogers defeated, despairing, utterly without chance. They came to David's street and her sympathy drew her into it. "I'm so sorry for him!" she burst out. "So sorry! I wish I could do something. I'd like to go in and tell him what I feel--if you think he wouldn't mind that from a stranger." "I'm afraid he would," said David, grimly. They fell silent. As they drew to within a block of the house, David saw the Mayor of Avenue A, whom he had left with Rogers, come down the steps and start toward them, which was also toward the café. The Mayor recognised them instantly, and a smile began to shine on his pink face. He had long been wanting to meet Helen, and now the chance was his. He came up, his overcoat spread wide at the demand of his vest, and, pausing, took off his hat with his best ball-room flourish. "I've heard a great deal about you through Mr. Aldrich," Helen said, when David had introduced them. "I'm very happy to meet you." "And I'm happy to meet you, miss," he returned, bowing, making a graceful sweep with his hat, and vigorously shaking the hand she had given him. "And me, I've heard about you a lot--and that long before I saw Mr. Aldrich. "From St. Christopher's, I suppose." "Yes, there--and elsewhere," said the Mayor, smiling gallantly. "On the society pages. I've seen lots o' pieces about you, and seen your picture there among the beauties of society." The Mayor expected to see her blush with gratification and ask for more--as women always did. But she quickly shifted to another subject. "Mr. Aldrich has just been telling me of a business affair you, he and Mr. Rogers have been engaged in." "Oh, has he!" The Mayor, in the agreeable experience of meeting Helen, had forgotten there was such a person as her father. But he was the gallant no longer. His feet spread apart, his face grew stern, and he looked Helen squarely in the eyes. "Well," he demanded, "--and what do you think o' your father now?" "My father?" she said blankly. David caught his arm. "Keep still, Hoffman!" he cried roughly.